Behind Him All The Way
by dublin writer
Summary: While not long working as partners, an incident while at work makes Steve question his choices in life. It's up to Mike to help him as only Mike can. Warning: Mentions of suicide and the death of a child involved in their case. Disclaimer: These boys do not belong to me sadly. They belong to Quinn Martin. I do not profit from their use except in enjoyment.
1. Chapter 1

**Behind Him All The Way**

Chapter 1

Mike pulled the LTD to a stop just short of the gold colored Porsche and sighed heavily. Exiting the car he looked out at the Golden Gate Bridge, spreading out majestically before him, catching the last rays of the setting evening sun, a sight that never failed to impress him and make him proud to call San Francisco his home. Soon the lights would come on and the city would come alive. He took a few lungfuls of the fresh sea breeze that was quite strong this evening and making his way to the top of the slope he looked down on the beach below. At this time of the evening the beach was more or less deserted except for a few dog walkers or late evening joggers and that's when he saw the figure of his young partner sitting on an outcrop of rocks, hurling small pebbles towards the sea. He was in a thin blue shirt, his tie missing and Mike also wondered what had become of his jacket and inwardly shivered at how cold he must be. His wavy locks were being blown out of their usual well coiffured order by the stiff sea breeze and he seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Mike sighed heavily and heading briefly back to his car, he opened and reached into the trunk and pulled out a woolen blanket and draped it over his arm. Then buttoning up his overcoat right to the neck, he started to descend down the steep rocky steps that led onto Baker Beach. As he made his way down he thought about the previous six months since Steve had become his new partner. At first he had been reluctant to train someone new in but Olsen had insisted, so he had been left with no other choice than to take the kid under his wing. He smiled as he remembered his first impression of the young, newly promoted Assistant Inspector. Dressed in fancy clothes, not a store label in sight, driving his old but equally fancy Gold Porsche and with longer hair than any detective he'd known before he had like many others been a little hasty with his first impressions. A college boy know it all, too big for his boots. A mere slip of a boy, still wet behind the ears, trying to make his way in a man's world but boy had he been wrong!

The young man had, over the last six months, proved himself more than capable as a homicide detective. He was neat, almost meticulous where typing his reports was concerned, his case files paper clipped together in impeccable detail and his investigative skills and instincts were without fault. He never left any stone unturned or any clue without being followed up. His shooting skills at the range were more than impressive and even some of Mike's older colleagues were in awe of his skill. He followed instructions and rarely complained even in the early days when God knows Mike and the other detectives had perhaps made his life difficult and had given him every right to. He had made the coffee, spent hours down in records and filed case files back in alphabetical order and many more tasks that a college boy know it all, had he really been one, would have protested vehemently but not Steve. He was amicable, personable and hardworking and over the six months they had struck up a rapport. A familiar and comfortable partnership and friendship was developing between them and even now they were slowly adjusting to each other.

Then today happened. Mike feared that he hadn't perhaps prepared his partner for what had gone down. After all, the boy was his understudy, so to speak and Mike was meant to be showing him the ropes. Today he felt he had let the boy down badly and now he was more determined than ever to pick up the young man's broken pieces and set him back straight no matter what it took.

The steep path had proved tricky to maneuver down and especially against the strong breeze that he was fighting against. When he finally stepped down onto the sand he was relieved that the wind was not quite as strong at ground level, the cliff face providing limited shelter but it was still cold, cold as hell in fact. He headed towards the young man and noticed that he never even saw him approach. Getting closer, he watched Steve skim more stones out onto the water's surface and cleared his throat purposefully, finally drawing Steve's attention.

Steve looked around startled and Mike almost gasped as he saw the wide eyed and troubled look on his partner's face. He watched as the young man quickly looked away and spoke more to the sea than back at him.

"Mike? ... What ... what are YOU doing here?"

Mike swallowed hard before answering.

"Well, I would have thought that was quite obvious ... Looking for you. I thought I sent you home earlier?"

Even with his back turned , Mike could sense Steve's flustering.

"Ah ... yeah ... yeah I guess you did. I ah ... I just fancied a stroll on the beach. There's no crime in that, is there?"

"No ... No, I guess not." Mike answered, watching Steve closely.

He waited for Steve to speak next and didn't have to wait long.

"How ah ... How did you find me here? What did you do? Put out an APB on me? " Steve asked with an irritable and almost sarcastic tone to his voice.

Mike didn't rise to the bait however and shrugged his shoulders.

"I thought about it ... But that car of yours is pretty easy to find so I found you all by myself as it happens. "

Steve threw a sideways look back at Mike and could see that Mike was going to be hard to get rid of. He didn't want him here witnessing his difficulty. He had spent too long proving his worth as a capable partner to have the older man see this side of him. Not now. He could handle it,but in his own way like always. But not with Mike as his chaperone.

"You don't have to babysit me Mike. I'm fine. So it was a rough day. I can handle it, ok?"

"Can you?"

" YEAH!" he stated defiantly before turning his gaze back to the sea as a lump appeared in his throat that belied his spoken word.

Mike wasn't fooled. He walked closer and saw the young man shivering.

"The sea breeze sure is cold this time of the evening, huh? Of course it would have helped if you'd brought your jacket. Steve? Where ah ... is your jacket from earlier? I ah ... I didn't see it in your car. "

Steve stopped still as a statue, as he heard the one question he had hoped he wouldn't be asked and one he knew he couldn't lie about. He didn't respond and Mike persisted.

"Steve? I asked you where your jacket was?"

Knowing he was not going to take silence for an answer, he stared down at the breaking waves as the tide came in and answered almost in a whisper.

"I ah ... I threw it in a trash can up in the car park ..."

Mike dry swallowed and stepped forward, draping the woolen blanket around Steve's shoulders as he did as he realized the seriousness of Steve actions and feeling Steve tense up as he did.

"Here, I brought this for you. "

Steve merely nodded gratefully and pulled the blanket tight around his neck with a fisted hand.

"You could have just got it laundered Buddy boy. Those fancy jackets of yours cost quite a bit don't they? Seems a waste to just dump it like that."

Steve shivered again and answered in as normal a voice as he could muster, feeling his resolve breaking and desperately trying not to let the cracks in his armor show.

"His blood was all over it Mike. Even if it was cleaned I'd ... I'd still see the bloodstains."

Mike draped an arm around Steve's shoulders and spoke compassionately.

"Steve, look. It wasn't your fault. The man was going to take his own life no matter what you said or did. "

Steve pushed Mike's arm away and let the blanket fall to the sand. He backed up away from Mike and ran a shaking hand through his windswept hair.

"NO! No you're wrong Mike! I was getting through to him. He was listening to me. He was going to give me the gun. I just needed a few more minutes, that's all ..."

Mike rushed forward unexpectedly and grabbed Steve's shoulders firmly.

"STEVE! Don't do this. Don't second guess what happened. Sure, he was listening to you, having cold feet maybe but ... but he was never going to change his mind. He went to that cafe to kill himself and that's what he was going to do no matter what, do you hear me? "

"Maybe we should have waited for the Psychologist Mike. I mean what was I thinking? I ... I really thought I could talk him down, you know? How arrogant was that? I mean what the hell do I know about that sort of thing, huh? I mean I haven't been trained in that right? "

"Steve, you conducted yourself perfectly at that crime scene. You helped evacuate the other customers and staff and you tried to talk to him until the Psychologist got there. You did good Buddy Boy. I heard most of what you said to him. You couldn't have tried harder to save him. If we had waited for the Psychologist the result would have been the same. At least this way someone listened to him. Someone shared his pain and listened to him and that was all he wanted before he ah ... well before he ah ..."

" ... Blew his brains out right in front of me. Is that what you're struggling to say Mike? I couldn't stop him Mike ... I ... I really tried ... you know? No-one should feel they have to do that Mike. No-one ... should have that as their only option ... It's not fair ..."

"Well now who ever told you life is fair, HUH? Is it fair that people get killed day in and day out in this city and we have the lousy job of breaking the news to their loved ones or is it fair that parents hearts are broken on a daily basis by kids that overdose on the drugs that come into this city that we can't seem to shut down. WELL IS IT?"

Steve shook his head as his eyes watered in the dying, evening light. Hearing Steve's labored breathing he remembered the first time he had seen someone take their own life, not in his time in the force but during his time in the Marines and he knew how badly it had affected him. He calmed his temper and patted Steve's shoulder sympathetically knowing that on this occasion tough love was NOT going to work but that the painful truth would help a whole lot more. He had hoped to pass on this heartbreaking information to his partner back at his apartment earlier when he had called to check on him but it looked like it was going to have to be here instead.

"Steve, sit down will you? There's something you need to know. "

Steve stared helplessly at Mike, now curious as to what he was referring to. He allowed Mike to push him gently back against the rock behind him and even allowed him to retrieve the blanket and drape it around his shoulders again. Steve waited patiently for Mike to continue and watched as Mike seemed to struggle with what he had to say.

"Steve, today after I ... well after I sent you home, me and Lessing went to the man's house. "

Steve could feel a sinking sensation developing in the pit of his stomach. It was the same feeling that always came just before bad news. He almost wanted to cover his ears and block out Mike's words but he somehow knew that whatever Mike had found was going to explain to him why the incident had happened and right now it remained the one thing that bothered him deeply. What had driven the man to such desperation?

Mike stopped briefly and gave Steve a desperate look and Steve could see he was appraising how he would take the news.

"Steve, we found two bodies. A woman's and a small child's ... "

Steve was suddenly glad he was sitting down. If he had been still standing he wouldn't have trusted his legs to hold him up. He processed the horrific information and spoke shakily.

"Dear God Mike ... His family?"

Mike nodded sadly.

"His name was Bob Haskins. The dead woman was Michelle Haskins and the little boy, their son Tommy was only four years old. He was a construction worker who was laid off six months ago. We talked to his neighbors. It seems that times were tough and they were struggling to pay bills and fighting a lot. She was threatening to take the boy and leave him. Looks like he just ... snapped ..."

Steve's eyes were now misted completely as he struggled to comprehend what could possibly possess anyone to hurt their wife and child.

"He ... he killed them?"

Mike nodded and Steve swore he saw tears in the older man's eyes too in that moment.

"So you see Steve. He knew he'd done wrong. That cafe was where he met his wife. He was going to pull that trigger no matter what. There was nothing you could have done differently."

Steve exhaled sharply and looked down at the sand and the waves that were starting to lap now in around the rocks where he was sitting. He didn't know what to say. All he managed were three words that seemed to be brimming with angst and regret.

"Aw Gees Mike ..."

Mike watched Steve cover his face with his hands and struggle with the new information. The man's actions made sense now. Even some of the words he had shared with Steve were clearer now that he knew the savage truth. Mike moved a step closer until he was right in front of Steve and then got down on his haunches so that he was looking up slightly towards his partner's position on the rock.

"I know what you're thinking Buddy boy and the answer is yes."

That statement drew Steve's attention and he dropped his hands and stared at Mike incredulously.

"How the hell do you know what I'm thinking?"

"Because I know. It's the same for all of us when we start this job. You're asking yourself are you really cut out for Homicide? Have you got what it takes? Can you steel your heart when you witness such vile and unfathomable acts. Can you get through other days like this because make no mistake about it Buddy Boy. There will be. Homicide is a grim, thankless and sometimes heartbreaking job but it's like everything, it's a dirty job but someone has to do it. Now I know you've been trying hard to impress these last six months and believe me you have. And not just me either. You've proven yourself in many situations that lesser people would have froze in but we don't expect you to be a heartless robot either Steve. The fact that you care is what makes me one hundred percent certain that you have what it takes. Do you think I didn't shed a tear when I found little Tommy's body earlier, huh? Well do you? "

Steve stared at his Boss and partner and shook his head. When he had gone to work with Mike everyone had tried to tease him and told him about Mike's nickname Iron Mike and Steve had at first perhaps thought it was because he didn't allow himself to be affected by the tragedies on the job but he had learned on many occasions since then that he was wrong and had seen Mike deeply affected by crime scenes at various times. He knew the woman and child's deaths would have affected him badly too.

"Steve, can I tell you something?"

Steve nodded, still slightly taken aback by the flow of compliments that Mike had just lavished on him earlier.

"If I'd found you at home earlier watching the game and not affected by today I would have been MORE worried about you. It's ok to be upset by things that happen on the job. It's healthy to question why they happened and to analyze them so that we learn from those situations but don't over think them Buddy boy. You have to accept that you did all you could and then vow to fight another day. As much as we'd like to, you and me, we can't save them all. All we can do is keep trying to."

By the end of Mike's speech, Steve felt a little more at ease. The sight he had witnessed so horrifically just ten hours earlier would stay with him for quite some time. Even though he had washed the man's blood off his face numerous times he could almost still feel it on him but he felt supported and not so alone anymore and Mike's words had meant a lot. He watched Mike stand back up and stood up too as the sea started coming through the rocks and pooling around their feet. Satisfied that he had got through to the young man by the change of emotion visible in the young man's eyes Mike spoke encouragingly.

"Uh oh. Looks like the tide is coming in Buddy boy. Come on. Let's get you home. And tomorrow I want you to go talk to Lenny. Rudy is insisting on it."

"Aw Mike ..."

"Ah ah! No arguments " Mike spoke firmly, pushing Steve gently ahead of him back towards the steep rocky path. "Talking about it helps even if you don't believe that. It will take a while to put this out of your head but you'll make it. Actually ... we'll make it together. You see that's what makes good partners. What happens to you happens to me and vice versa. Nothing is too hard that we can't face it together. You got that hotshot?" he added humorously grabbing the back of Steve's neck as he ascended.

"Yeah ... Yeah I got it ... Thanks Mike. "

"Sure, sure. "

Arriving back up to the cars, Steve fished in his trouser pocket for his car key.

"Ok Steve, you head out first and I'll follow and no more detours, alright? You're going home to STAY this time and I'm going to follow you there to make sure. "

"Yes Sir " Steve answered teasingly as Mike swatted at his back in reply.

Passing the trash can on his way to the LTD, he peered in and saw Steve's fancy jacket protruding slightly and a large bloodstain was visible from where it did. He felt a shudder run down his spine as he remembered seeing Steve after the shot rang out. The look of hopelessness and despair in the young man's eyes had been heartbreaking and he had gently pulled Steve out of the booth and away from the harrowing scene. He had handed him his handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face and after insisting he was checked over by the Paramedics for possible signs of shock, he had sent the young man home in a black and white. Even as he had watched him being driven away in the back of the patrol car his faraway look had bothered Mike greatly. Now shaking himself back to the present, he looked back at Steve and saw the young man staring at the discarded jacket too, a hint of the same haunted look still on his face.

"You sure you don't want to just get it laundered?"

Steve shook his head sadly and Mike piped up enthusiastically.

"Ok, well leave it with me and I might be able to get Olsen to spring for a new jacket for you on the expense account. After all it was damage incurred in the line of duty, right?"

Steve smiled and it was the first time he had since the incident earlier. It felt good to find something amusing again. Mike was a real tonic and did better head-work than Lenny any day.

"You think he would?"

"Are you kidding me? You obviously haven't seen me in action Buddy boy. You just leave it to me. I'll sort it out."

Steve nodded gratefully and watched as Mike sat into the LTD. He took one more deep breath of fresh sea air as he looked back out to sea one last time and across at the Golden Gate bridge now glowing red from the setting sun. It had been quite a day and he had questioned his path in life many times during it. Now as he stood here in this almost serene place against a breathtaking landscape, his path seemed a little clearer. Mike was right. Life isn't fair and there would be more tough days and tougher decisions ahead but with Mike Stone as his partner, he'd make it through them just like today. Smiling again he heard the beep of a horn and looked across to where Mike sat in his car, gesturing wildly for him to get into the Porsche and drive. With a smile and a placating wave of his hand he sat into his beloved Porsche and drove off, seeing and smiling again at the comforting sight of Mike in his rear-view mirror, behind him all the way.

 **The End**

 **A/N : This story is complete for now but I do intend to add at least one more chapter to it at some stage dealing with more of the week that followed at some stage as time and real life allows which is why I haven't marked it as complete yet.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Behind Him All The Way**

 **A/N: I dedicate this chapter to Sylvia Elaine :-) And also want to thank all those who remain patient and supportive of my slow updates. I wish I could manage to update quicker but with my kids on Summer break now for the next eight weeks that situation shows no signs of improving anytime soon. Sincere apologies to the readers ... I will promise to update as soon as I am able to. :-)**

Chapter 2

 **Two Days Later :**

Mike picked up the ringing phone and placed the receiver to his ear as he studied their latest case file carefully.

"Homicide. Stone. Oh, I see. Ok ... Thanks for letting me know Lenny. Yes, I'll keep an eye on him. Sure. Bye."

He hung up the phone and sighed heavily, dropping the file back onto the desk and removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose in a tired fashion. It had been a tough few days since the shooting and despite his constant reassurances that he was fine, Mike knew that his young partner was anything but "fine". The dark circles beneath his eyes had grown larger and his temper had grown shorter. He was quieter than usual and barely spoke unless he was spoken to or to discuss cases and as far as Mike could tell he wasn't eating very well either. Yesterday's session with Lenny had gone ok by all accounts but from the phone call he had just received, today's hadn't gone as well. He had known there was going to be a tough road ahead of them to get Steve over what had happened but he had hoped for a little more improvement by now. Just as he was mulling over how unfair life could be, the outer bullpen door opened and a rather annoyed looking Steve Keller entered the office at a fast stride.

Mike watched as he approached his desk and yanked out the chair underneath it with a loud bang that caused every other detective to stop what they were doing momentarily to look in his direction. He removed his jacket and placed it haphazardly over the back of it before dragging it with a squeaking sound out and then sitting down heavily onto it, dragging his tie down away from his neck as he did and proceeding to unbutton his shirt sleeves and roll them up as well. He looked like hell and Mike tentatively stood up and went outside to the coffee table under the pretense of getting himself a cup of coffee.

Approaching the percolator, he poured his coffee and threw a surreptitious sideways glance at his young partner. Steve wasn't even watching him. He had retrieved his notebook and had opened it angrily and was now rummaging for paper in his drawer to place into the typewriter with a fury that was almost scary to witness. Mike noticed that most of the other detectives seemed to be keeping tabs on him also, again as surreptitiously as Mike was. Deciding to break the silence for better or worse, Mike spoke.

"Steve? You want a coffee? My treat!"

Steve never even looked around but grunted instead in a frustrated tone.

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? " Mike persisted but the stark and irritated response sounded back.

"YES! I'm ... SURE."

Mike studied the back of Steve's head from where he still stood outside his office and noticed that the young man's hair was damp. It had been damp when he had gotten to work this morning as well and Mike had assumed he had perhaps slept it out and left the house after a quick shower. The weather in San Francisco was quite foggy and misty this morning and it was sufficiently cold with it, that it wouldn't have dried on his way to work but he was sure that it would have dried during the hour and a half session that he was up with Lenny but yet it looked almost newly soaked. He looked towards his window to see if perhaps it had been raining but saw no sign and then glanced at Steve's jacket and saw that it was bone dry too.

Feeling he had to do something, Mike approached Steve's desk but even before he got near, Steve's voice barked back at him without turning.

"I DON'T want to talk about it Mike, OK?"

The tone held a level of angst and upset that perhaps only Mike could detect beneath the anger and frustration and it worried the older man greatly. Not being put off, he sat on the edge of Steve's desk and was sure he heard Steve sigh heavily as he did. He took a sip of his coffee and spoke again sympathetically.

"Sure ... That's ok. Fine by me. Is that the Haskin's case you're about to type up?"

Steve stopped what he was doing as Mike mentioned the name and he took a while to answer. He remained motionless as Mike watched him closely. After a few seconds he seemed to come alive again and spoke in a shaky voice.

"Yeah ... It has to be done ..."

Mike placed a hand on Steve's shoulder and felt the young man tense up as he did. He spoke in a quiet voice.

"I can type that up for you ... If you like?"

Mike was sure he felt a slight tremble from where he held him and waited patiently for an answer. It came quite quickly.

"No ... Thanks but ... I can do it ..."

With that, he grabbed a piece of paper and went to place it into the machine in front of him but he suddenly swore under his breath and grabbed his left hand as simultaneously red drops of blood started to drip from his left index finger and onto his desk. Mike quickly put his coffee cup down and reached over and grabbed Steve's hand and saw the gaping paper cut running down along the side of the young man's finger and reaching into his trouser pocket he quickly produced his handkerchief and wrapped it around the oozing cut.

"Ooh ... That's a doozy of a paper cut you've got there Buddy Boy. Come on into my office and we'll get you a plaster for it." Mike cajoled, maintaining pressure on the finger to try and stop the bleeding but Steve never moved or answered.

In fact he was staring at the growing bloodstain in horror, almost as if he was frozen to the one spot. Mike felt a niggling and uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Steve's strange reaction and leaning in closer to Steve he spoke firmly.

"Steve? STEVE!"

Steve suddenly startled and looked up at the older man as if he had just come out of a trance and he stuttered alarmingly.

"What? ... What ... did you say?"

Mike dry swallowed and spoke in a more compassionate tone.

'I SAID come into my office and we'll get that paper cut seen to Steve ..."

Steve looked back at the bloodied handkerchief and then in usual Keller style brushed off Mike's concern.

"It's ALRIGHT Mike ... It's just a paper cut for crying out loud. "

The frustration and uneasiness was palpable in Steve's tone as he tried to pull his hand out of Mike's grip but on this occasion Mike was not backing down. Tightening his grip on the bloodied finger instead of loosening it, he spoke firmly to the young man in a tone of his own that left no room for argument.

"That wasn't a request Buddy boy. Now get your duff into my Office Inspector!"

Steve almost recoiled at the last formally spoken word and felt every eye in the bullpen now momentarily focused in his direction. As Mike released his hand and gestured for him to go ahead of him, he looked with embarrassment around at the other detectives and not feeling up to causing a scene, he slowly and awkwardly got up and walked resignedly into Mike's office. Mike followed him and Steve heard him closing the door behind him as he entered. Steve stood in front of Mike's desk, holding the handkerchief around his by now throbbing finger and stared straight ahead out of Mike's Office window dejectedly. Mike watched him from behind and worried more about his demeanor. Cautiously picking up the chair from the far wall he placed it behind Steve where he stood and then coming around behind his desk he spoke in the same authoritative voice, feeling in the moment that it would be the only one Steve would respond readily to.

"Sit down Steve."

Steve glanced from the window to Mike and the look his face held chilled Mike to the bone. It was a look he had seen on many cop's faces over his years on the force but not one he ever recalled seeing on his new partner's face or in fact ever wished to. There was a lifelessness in the young man's eyes. A horror that seemed to be eating away at him. He stayed reluctantly staring the young man into submission and was relieved that after only mere seconds, Steve broke the stare and slowly glanced behind him and sat down into the chair that Mike had provided for him.

Only when Steve had settled quietly into the chair, did Mike turn and bend down to rummage in the bottom cabinet under his desk. Producing the first aid box and placing it on his desk, he opened it and leaned across the desk, issuing more firm instructions that couldn't be argued with.

"Let me see the finger ..."

Steve sighed heavily and reached his left hand over and placed it onto the desk without further complaint and Mike started carefully unwrapping the handkerchief from around the offending cut. He felt Steve pull his hand back instinctively as the cut pulled a little as he did but he kept a firm grip on it. Then he reached for the antiseptic and started to clean the cut, dabbing it with cotton wool as he did. Again he heard Steve hiss as the antiseptic stung but he continued regardless until the plaster was in place and the finger was covered sufficiently. They hadn't spoken while the first aid had taken place but now that the deed was done, Mike spoke in a more friendly tone.

"There we go. All done. Although I wouldn't use that finger to type just yet Buddy boy."

Steve nodded gratefully but started to get up at the same time.

"Thanks ... Can I GO now?"

"Just hold on a minute will you? Look we ... we need to talk Buddy boy ..."

Steve sat back down reluctantly but his face darkened.

"Mike, I TOLD YOU ..."

"I know, I know. You don't want to talk about whatever happened up with Lenny this morning and I said that was OK" Mike interrupted." But ... well ... you're not TALKING about ANYTHING ... Steve it's not healthy to try and deal with what happened like this and then there's all the other things too."

Steve's head whipped up and eyed Mike defiantly.

"What are you talking about Mike. What ... what OTHER things? Just because I haven't been joking around and pretending everything's ok, you don't have to get on my case Mike. You wanted me to go see Lenny and I AM ... even though it's NOT helping one bit. All he does is ask question after question and even when I don't have the answers Mike, he still ... expects me to come up with them ..."

Steve stopped his rant as he realized he had almost said too much in his moment of discomfort and he blushed visibly and looked back down at his newly plastered finger and cleared his throat. Mike sat back in his chair and remained studying the young man closely.

"Ah! ... So that's it, huh? He's asking too many uncomfortable questions for your liking. Is it? Steve, asking uncomfortable questions is what Murchison gets paid to do. It's how he'll help you get over this but you have to go along with it otherwise it WON'T help you. You can't just storm out whenever his questions don't appeal to you."

That statement sparked Steve's annoyance again as he looked back up crossly.

"I did NOT storm out! Our ... our session was over and ... I answered his DAMN questions ... as best I could ..."

Realizing that he had hit a sore point, Mike nodded and then probed further, tentatively.

"Ok, ok, tell me this then. Why is your hair wet?"

Steve's face reddened and he automatically brushed a hand through his damp locks as he stammered awkwardly.

"What? ..."

"Your hair. It was wet this morning when you came in and it's still as wet as it was then. How come it hasn't dried?"

Steve snorted derisively and spoke sarcastically.

"What are you now Mike? Inspector of Hair? So I showered this morning ... Is that a crime too now?"

Mike grinned at Steve's comment, purposefully not rising to the sarcasm and responded calmly.

"No it's not a crime and your cleanliness is to be applauded and even appreciated too when we spend such a lot of hours in each others close proximity but it still doesn't explain why your hair hasn't dried since you came into work this morning . What did you do? Stick your head under the tap after you came out of Lenny's Office to cool off?"

Steve's face fell and he appeared to fluster. He started rubbing his right hand across his mouth and seemed at a loss for an answer. His actions perturbed Mike and so the older man leaned across the desk and spoke compassionately.

"Steve? Is that what you did?"

Steve looked back up and Mike saw him swallowing hard. He shook his head and then seemed to find his voice albeit a slightly shakier one.

"No ... Not exactly ... It was hot up in Lenny's Office. His air con was on the blink so I ... I had a quick shower before I came back here ... That's all. I ... I needed a change of shirt and that's why my hair is still wet. Ok? Are you happy now. Can I please get back to work now?"

Mike heard the almost pleading tone in his partner's voice. He stared unnervingly at the younger man and something about his answer set alarm bells ringing in his head. Two showers in the space of four hours. Steve was acting agitated and very ill at ease and Mike was wondering if he should just send the young man home when the phone on his desk rang loudly and interrupted their conversation. Mike picked it up never taking his eyes off his young partner as he did and watched while Steve got up and started pacing uncomfortably back and forth as he spoke into the mouthpiece.

"Homicide, Stone. Oh hi Rudy ... Yes ... yes he's here with me now in fact. Sure ... Sure I'll tell him ... Ok. Thanks."

As Steve heard Mike's words he stopped pacing and stood with his hands on his hips, his face darkening more by the second. As Mike replaced the receiver, Steve shook his head nervously.

"Please don't tell me the Captain wants to see me now, Mike."

Mike looked apologetically at the young man.

"I'm afraid so. He wants you up there now. Look ... It mightn't even be about what happened and if it is ... well it mightn't be as bad as you think."

Steve started pacing again and brushing his hair with his hand as he spoke sarcastically again .

"Oh yeah right. It's probably just a social call. He probably just wants to congratulate me on the world's largest paper cut!"

Mike couldn't help but laugh at Steve's words and Steve even managed a small smile at Mike's reaction to his sarcasm. But then he sighed heavily again and spoke this time more resignedly.

"Ok ... I better not keep him waiting. This day just keeps getting better and better you know that?"

He stood and pushed his tie back up into place and started rolling back down his sleeves and re-buttoning them as Mike stood and came around to help him as the right one proved tricky with the plastered finger.

"Here let me get that one for you."

Steve allowed Mike to button his right sleeve and then Mike grabbed his shoulders and spoke sympathetically.

"Look you don't even know what it's all about yet. Go up there with an open mind and an even temperament. Got that Hotshot? No flying off the handle or sarcasm with the Captain. I can take it. HE on the other hand will bust your chops for it. Ok?"

Steve smirked again.

"BUST my CHOPS? " he half giggled.

"Yes Wiseguy ... So behave. Go on. You know how he hates to be kept waiting."

Steve sighed again but didn't move, his face laced with worry so Mike once more squeezed his right shoulder and spoke softly.

"You ah ... you want me to go up there with you?"

At Mike's words Steve looked back up at him and inclined his head to the side, his facial expression changing to one Mike couldn't quite read.

"Mike, how would that look, huh? "

Mike smiled and nodded knowingly.

"Yeah ... yeah you're right! It wouldn't look good. Ok, go on so and you can tell me what he wanted when you get back."

Steve nodded but his worried face quickly returned as he nodded his goodbye and left the office, calling back as he did.

"Ok, wish me luck."

"Good luck!" Mike shouted after him and watched anxiously as Steve left the bullpen.

If Lenny had called Rudy as well as him this morning he worried about what Rudy's conversation with Steve would be and also how Steve would react to it.

Steve walked the short distance to the stairwell and then up the two flights of stairs towards Olsen's office much slower than he normally would. Anytime he normally made this journey of late Mike would also be with him and the older man normally did most of the talking to the Captain. The last time he had a one on one with Olsen in his Office was the day he had been reassigned to Homicide from Vice. After a short but amicable conversation, the Captain had then brought him down personally to introduce him to Mike and he remembered their first meeting as well as if it were only yesterday. He had felt very nervous. His colleagues in Vice had teased him about the gruff but fair Lieutenant that he was to be partnered with and had already put him on his guard. He remembered Mike's face when he first set eyes on him and distinctly saw the older man eye him up and down, seeming to take in his whole appearance and process it into a first impression in mere seconds.

"So this is the Wonder boy Rudy ..." had been his first words and Steve had smiled at the casual description as the older man had gripped his hand in a vice-like grip and shook it warmly.

"Good strong handshake Keller. Well first things first we better assign you a desk, hadn't we? So what about that one just outside my Office Hotshot. That way I can keep a close eye on you and you won't have far to go to make the coffee ... " had been his second retort and Steve remembered feeling just about ready to melt into the floor.

He had also felt that perhaps the Lieutenant was testing his mettle as to how he would react to being assigned a menial task and so he had purposefully answered.

"Sounds ok to me Sir." Steve had replied and he had quickly heard Mike's very quick answer.

"There's no" Sirs" in this Department, Buddy boy. Just call me Mike, do what you're told to and follow the rules and we'll get along just fine."

Steve sucked in a deep breath as he recalled the first time Mike had addressed him as Buddy boy. It had deeply irritated him at first and had taken him a while to get used to but once he had come to realize that it was being used as a term of endearment and not a condescending nickname over the course of the last six months he had become accustomed to the phrase and while he wouldn't tolerate anyone else calling him it, he kind of liked Mike's use of it. Steve came out of his reminiscences quickly as he arrived at the outer door to Olsen's Office. Taking an extra long steadying breath he pushed open the door and entered quickly before he had a chance to change his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Behind Him All The Way**

 **A/N: Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers! This chapter is slightly smaller than my usual ones but at least it meant a quick update. :-)**

Chapter 3

As Steve came through the outer door, Olsen's secretary Alice lifted her eyes from her typewriter and smiled warmly at the young Inspector. Bryant Street being what it was, news had spread quickly about what had happened two days before and she felt sorry for the young man and the terrible trauma he had been through having only been in Homicide for such a short time. His charm, good manners and his boyish good looks also meant he was the talk of many a tea break down in the cafeteria among Alice's younger female tea break companions. Today he looked more tired than usual and there was a definite shadow across his usually bright green eyes. His damp hair that hung limply instead of his usual perfectly coiffured wavy locks gave him a different and worrying appearance today

"Hi Alice. I ah ... I believe the Captain wants to see me."

"Hi Steve. Yes, he's expecting you. You can go straight in. "

Steve straightened himself up a little and glanced nervously at the Captain's Office door as he headed past Alice's desk. Alice noticed the young man's nervousness and spoke softly as he passed by.

"Ah Steve ... I ... I was so sorry to hear about what happened. I ... well I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you ... "

Steve swallowed hard as he heard that Alice knew about his traumatic ordeal and by association realized that probably half the building were also talking about it behind his back. He liked Alice. She had always been kind to him since he came to work at Bryant Street and he felt that her sympathy was genuine and so with his usual disarming smile, he responded gratefully.

"Thanks Alice. But I'm ... I'm ok. "

Alice returned the smile and before she could continue the uncomfortable conversation any further, he raised his right hand and knocked softly twice on the Captain's door. The Captain's voice echoed immediately.

"Come in!"

Steve took one more deep breath before opening the door and stepping across the threshold into Olsen's office. Captain Rudy Olsen was seated at his desk and seemed to be studying paperwork of some sort. He raised his head as Steve entered and smiled warmly but his smile had a hard time staying put as he saw the drastic change in the appearance of one of his youngest detectives in the short span of time since he had seen him last face to face.

"Ah Steve! ... Come on in. Please, have a seat. "

Steve walked forward, feeling increasingly more awkward and pulling the chair away slightly from Olsen's desk he sat down carefully but stayed sitting forward, perched uncomfortably on the edge, his hands on his lap as he spoke as normally as his nerves would allow.

"I was told you ah ... wanted to see me Captain?"

"Yes, yes that's right. Well I've been pretty swamped the last few days. A Captains work isn't all sitting around this desk you know. Tedious meetings and briefings and ..."

Seeing Steve's eyes drifting downwards dejectedly at the fact that he wasn't getting to the point of why he had summoned him in a timely enough fashion, Rudy stopped his lengthy explanation mid-sentence and decided some pleasant formalities might help instead.

"Say Steve, can I get you some coffee or tea if you prefer? Alice makes good coffee."

Steve shook his head impatiently.

"No, no thank you. I'm not thirsty ... You ah ... You were saying?"

Having failed to entice the young Inspector to a hot beverage he then spied the plastered finger and decided on a brief distraction instead.

"What happened to your finger? "

Steve dropped the finger and cursed the fact that he had let Olsen see it. His patience was wearing thin and despite the fact that he was trying to do what Mike had instructed and stay calm, he was starting to lose his cool.

"It's just a paper cut. Nothing serious. Look Captain ... could you please just tell me why I'm here?"

Olsen could see that Steve was in no mood for pleasantries and so he resigned himself to the facts and the unpleasantness of what he had to do.

"Sure, sure. Well I ah ... I haven't had a chance to see you since ... the Haskin's incident. I'm really sorry the way that turned out Steve. How ... have you been coping?"

Steve raised his eyes again towards the Captain's and could see that the Captain was visibly studying his every reaction. Purposefully trying to keep the angst both out of his eyes and his voice, he answered bravely.

"I'm coping ok Captain. "

Olsen scowled briefly at his young Inspector's answer, realizing immediately that this conversation was not going to go as he had hoped. If the young man was in such denial then he was not going to take the news he had to impart well and the last thing he intended to do was to make things even worse than they already were for the young man who had suffered so terribly through no fault of his own, in the admirable attempt to do his job and help a deeply troubled man in the line of duty. He picked up his pen from the desk and started fiddling with it as he spoke reluctantly, trying to keep his tone upbeat and positive despite the negative impact he knew his words were going to have.

"I'm afraid that doesn't tally with what Murchison told me Steve. According to him, you're not coping with this well at all. In fact ... he has suggested that maybe the best course of action right now is to ... well for you to take a little downtime Steve. You know? Take some time for yourself to get over this."

Steve's face fell and he was now struggling to contain the frustration and new upset the Captain's words had caused. He stared anxiously at the older man and spoke this time in a tone of utter disbelief.

"Are you ... SUSPENDING me?"

"NO Steve! Of course not. There's no blame to be allocated here. This whole incident was tragic but you did everything by the book. In fact, your actions were if anything admirable in your attempts to save him. This is merely for your own good. You need to take some time out Steve. To heal and come back even stronger. You ah ... you came back too soon Steve. You'll get compassionate leave with full pay."

Steve's breathing was betraying him as his lungs seemed to be working faster to pull in the oxygen he needed. His mind was racing and he couldn't believe that things were getting gradually worse as the day went by. He tried to keep his voice even but it was getting harder.

"So ah ... You and Lenny think that me staying home looking at the four walls is going to help me get over this better? You ah ... you wanna tell me how that works?"

Olsen's fears had been confirmed. The young man's facial expression had changed considerably since he had come in earlier. His eyes now held a look of betrayal and hopelessness that only made Rudy feel even worse about the actions he had to put in place.

"Look Steve. We're all on your side. I know you probably don't feel that's the case right now but WE ARE. Look if you don't want to take leave then you can still work in Homicide Steve but I'm going to have to keep you off the streets until Lenny signs you back fit for duty. I'm SORRY Steve. I really am but it's the way things have to be in a situation like this. I can't let you back on the job fully until you're certified by the Department Psychiatrist."

"What? You both think I'm crazy now, is that it? Someone blows their brains out in front of me and suddenly I'm not a good enough cop anymore? That's not what you were saying when you read my personnel file six months ago when you reassigned me to Homicide Captain. You said I was a credit to the Force. That I'd go far. Do you remember that? Have things changed that drastically in the course of two days that you're just prepared to write me off?"

Steve was visibly shaking now as he spoke and Olsen felt terrible. This was one of the curses of his job. Having to almost kick an Officer when he was down in order to protect the public and his fellow officers. He had to reassure the young Inspector that there was no malice or intended hurt in his decision. Gesticulating wildly in a renewed effort to get his point across, he spoke firmly but compassionately.

"Steve, NO-ONE thinks any less of you than we did then and no-one is writing anyone off. You're a fine detective and you've more than proved your worth in Homicide over the last six months. You've even managed to win Mike over and believe me, THAT was an achievement in itself and speaks volumes about your work ethic and your personality. This is NOT personal Steve. This is for YOUR good as well as everyone else's. You need to give yourself some time to come to terms with what happened. Take the downsize for now Steve. There's plenty of work in Homicide that doesn't involve hitting the streets. Research, phone calls ..."

"Making the coffee ...?" Steve added bitterly.

Olsen leaned further across the desk in a last ditch attempt to win Steve's acceptance of his good intentions.

"Steve, it's obvious to Lenny and to ME by this conversation that you're in denial. What you witnessed isn't something you can just erase from your memory overnight. It affects how you think and how you'll do your job in the future. You need to continue to work with Lenny and in the meantime, take a backseat down in Homicide or if you don't want to do that, take it as leave. Go skiing or on a trip somewhere. Clear the demons Steve and then we'll get you back where you belong, I PROMISE you."

Steve finally sat back in his seat, the Captain's closer proximity the catalyst and alternated between running his hand across his mouth nervously and through his hair. He seemed to be trying to process what was being said and deciding what his next move should be. Olsen continued to watch him closely and after a minute of awkward silence Steve spoke, his tone this time held a hint of defeat that crushed Olsen's hopes of feeling better about what he had just done.

"Does Mike know about this?"

Olsen shook his head.

"No ... No, not yet. But this is out of his hands Steve. The buck stops with me and I have to follow the rules without exception. That's the unpleasant side of my job Steve. "

Steve's last hope of Mike perhaps blocking the move now equally crushed, he spoke again uncertainly.

"Do I have to decide now how I want to take this "downsize" as you called it, seeing as I have little choice in the matter?"

"No ... No, take your time. Take the rest of the day off and after your session with Lenny tomorrow morning, come and let me know then, ok?"

Steve nodded dejectedly and then started to stand.

"Is that it? Can I go now please?"

Olsen nodded, equally sorrowfully, having seen the fight leave the young Inspector's eyes as quickly as it had. One of the things he had always admired about Keller was his boundless and unfettered energy and enthusiasm and it saddened him how this one appalling incident had seemed to strangle that spirit out of him so easily. Knowing by the young man's demeanor that he had made the right decision but hating himself on a personal level for having added to the young man's troubles, he watched as the young man slowly walked towards the door and then spotted the paper bag under his desk out of the corner of his eye, that in the angst of the meeting he had completely forgotten about. He shouted Steve's name across the room as he saw it.

"WAIT Steve! Just a minute."

Steve turned and Olsen saw his face fall even further, as the young man's voice spoke, thick with betrayal and annoyance.

"What? You want my badge and gun as well?"

Olsen shook his head and waved his hand wildly again.

"No, no of course not. But I do have something for you. Here ..."

As Steve stood and felt a small bit of relief at not having to relinquish his piece and his badge, he watched as Olsen picked up a large paper shopping bag and placed it on his desk. His curiosity piqued and he returned slowly to Olsen's desk, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What ... is it?"

Olsen tried a warm smile to lighten the tension and spoke in an even warmer tone.

"Well you'll have to open it to see, won't you?"

Not in the humor for games, Steve sighed heavily and reached into the top of the bag and pulled the tissue paper aside and found himself inhaling sharply as he saw the brand new jacket that identically resembled the one he had thrown away after the shooting. He stood staring at it for several seconds before he managed to finally tear his eyes away from it back up to the Captain's and he stuttered almost incoherently.

"It's ... it's a replacement jacket?"

Olsen's smile widened at Steve's reaction and he responded warmly.

"Yes. That's right. Mike told me your other one was destroyed and well he contacted your tailor for us and we ordered a replacement. It should be the same size but you'll have to try it on later and let me know if it fits, ok?"

Steve had to look back at the jacket and avert his eyes from the Captain as his eyes threatened to mist over. The jacket looked perfect but it still reminded him of what had happened. He didn't want to seem ungrateful so he swallowed back the lump that rose in his throat and quickly replaced the tissue paper back over it before taking the handles and lifting it off the desk.

"I ... I don't know what to say ..."

"You don't have to say anything. And don't worry about the cost. The Department will pick up the tab so it's fully paid for. "

Steve nodded gratefully.

"Thank you. I ah ... I appreciate it ..."

"Don't mention it. Take the day Steve and work things out. You'll get through this. I promise you. We're all in your corner. I ah ... I just hope you believe that?"

Try as he did, Steve couldn't bring himself to smile. He didn't feel supported. No-one had even asked him what HE needed. Everyone just assumed they knew what was best for him. He merely nodded his head as a parting gesture and then turned and left hurriedly. He opened the door, stepped out and shut it behind him in one swift movement, feeling hot tears starting to build in his eyes as he exited. He had to get out of there fast. Turning around he caught Alice's look of pity as her eyes met his briefly but he still couldn't get his voice to work. He nodded again as pleasantly as he could and then marched out of the outer door hastily and off down the corridor with increasing speed as his emotions betrayed him. Feeling the tears escape, he quickly turned into the men's restroom and was pleased to see it empty. He entered a cubicle and quickly shut the door behind him before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor as he gripped the bag that held the jacket in a tight knuckle-whitening grip. His tears now fell freely and his muffled sobs filled the tiny space around him and threatened to choke him as he felt his life starting to fall apart right before his eyes and for the first time in his life he wasn't sure how to fix it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Behind Him All The Way**

Chapter 4

Steve wasn't sure how long he remained sitting on the floor of the cubicle as he hadn't even bothered checking his watch for quite some time. Having released some of the pent up upset that had been building for several days now, Steve shakily picked himself up off the floor and opening the door, he practically stumbled back out towards the sinks. His legs felt numb having sat there for so long on the cold tiled floor and his hands were shaking visibly. He dropped the carrier bag down onto the floor and leaned forward, supporting himself by his hands and arms that gripped both sides of the sink tightly. Looking up he caught his own reflection in the mirror and he exhaled sharply before talking to himself in a derogatory tone.

"Dear God Keller! No wonder people are looking at you funny. You look like hell. "

He always prided himself on looking well and his current appearance only made him feel worse. He turned on the tap and washed his hands and then threw some cold water up over his face and rubbed his eyes and grabbed the paper towel to dry himself. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried in vain to make his hair look even something close to its normal appearance but failed miserably. Having to settle for tidy for now, he then tilted his head and saw the slight stubbled shadow spreading across his chin and his jaw line. He really had let his appearance suffer over the last few days. He saw the dark circles, that now looked even more pronounced by the slightly swollen eyelids. He banged his fist off the sink at the helplessness of his situation and winced as the plastered finger had been forgotten in the moment and he grabbed it and swore under his breath as he saw the thin line of blood start to grow again from where he had just banged it.

Looking up for a brief few seconds, he saw his face covered with blood and he felt his breath catch in his chest as he quickly closed his eyes and shook his head and tried to breathe slower. Finally after allowing several seconds to pass he opened just one eye reluctantly and saw his face was clear and knew it had been just another flashback. One of many he had both seen and felt since the shooting. Resisting the urge to scrub his face thoroughly again just in case some remnants still miraculously remained, he could feel the pent up stress starting to rise again and purposefully took some deep breaths to try and stave off another imminent meltdown. The breathing exercise helped and he looked once more at himself in the mirror and tried to make his tired and messed up brain think about what his next move should be.

He couldn't let Mike see him like this. They had only been working together for just over six months and although he felt he had managed to get on the right side of the amicable Lieutenant, he didn't want this episode to colour their partnership and undo all the good work he had done so far to prove himself worthy of the post to which he had been assigned. It hadn't been an easy couple of months to start with and Mike had tested him at every twist and turn. But he had managed to make Mike see that he wasn't the college educated know it all he had pictured when they had met at first and over the last three months Mike had gradually eased the pressure off and he had just started to feel of late like a worthy half of the partnership rather than an understudy when life had thrown him this unfair curve ball.

Mike was starting to doubt him. He could tell by the way Mike had followed him to Baker's beach on the evening of the incident to the way he had been watching him like a hawk ever since. He couldn't let Mike see how it was affecting him. He had to prove to him that he had what it took. Mike had said he believed in him and he couldn't let that trust waver, not for a second. He had fought hard to make it to where he was today and he wasn't prepared to let all his hard work come undone so easily. No, he had to work this whole thing out and pull himself together somehow. After all ... he had been through other traumas in his short life so far and had come through them relatively unscathed. This could be no different. He had to make sure of that.

Reaching into his trouser pocket he took out his wallet and opening it, he fished out the shiny silver dollar that lay tucked safely within its leather folds. Turning it over carefully through his fingers he felt calmer as he thought of the person who had given it to him many years before. It had belonged to his Grandfather Harry, long since passed. The man who had lovingly raised him. The one person in his life up to now, with whom he had always felt safe and the one person who had never judged him and who had always believed in him wholeheartedly. He tried to think about what Harry would tell him to do right now and after a mere minute or two, Steve returned the silver dollar to its rightful place and fixing his tie once more, he made his decision.

First he had a duty to go back to Homicide and tell Mike what had happened with the Captain. He'd have to remain calm and not let his emotions interfere and then he would take the rest of the day off just as the Captain had requested. That would give him the rest of the day to work out his next move and maybe ... just maybe he might manage to get some much needed sleep. He felt so tired but peaceful sleep of any kind had proved quite elusive since the traumatic incident. What he wouldn't give now for a few hours of dreamless sleep. Picking up the carrier bag hesitantly, he stole a final glance in the mirror before opening the door to the restroom and heading off towards the stairwell.

As he approached the door to the stairs a voice he recognized shouted his name. It was the last voice he wanted to hear right now so he pretended he hadn't heard it and kept going through the stairwell door. As he reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs however the form of Lenny Murchison appeared at the top and shouted a second time.

"STEVE! Wait up. Please."

Steve stopped but didn't look up at the approaching Psychiatrist as he felt his anger rage inside. Only when he heard the man reach the step behind him did he turn sideways and glare at the man he felt had betrayed him and caused most of his current predicament.

"Oh you just had to call them both, didn't you? I'll bet you couldn't wait to make those two phone calls, huh?"

"Steve, I know you're mad at me and you have every right to be but you left me no choice by your actions today."

Steve turned even more sharply, now facing the man he was angry at and scoffed plainly.

"My ACTIONS? ... You really are something Murchison, you know that? All I did was tell you I wasn't up to your questions today but you couldn't just accept that could you? I mean whatever happened to Patient / Doctor confidentiality, huh? Doesn't that count for anything anymore?"

"Steve ... PLEASE listen to me. The confidentiality still stands. I didn't tell them anything that went on in our sessions so far but it's my job to tell them whether you're participating fully or not and today you chose not to. Steve the whole point of these sessions is that the days you don't feel up to them are the very days you need them most of all. MORE in fact. Can't you see that?"

Steve turned slightly away and paced in a circle, one hand clasped on his hip now, the fingernails almost digging into his skin with the uncharacteristic rage that coursed through him, as the other swung the carrier bag wildly by his side as he responded coldly.

"It's your job huh? Well then its a pretty lousy one because your little dutiful phone call just got me grounded? You happy now?"

Murchison's face fell and he appeared to be temporarily lost for words.

"Grounded?... "

"Yeah that's right. Grounded, chained to a desk, given a back seat, got it? You know you guys make me sick. You act all self righteous and tell us how we should feel and what we should do about it but you've gotten all that from reading those fancy books in your office. You've never been out on the streets facing what we do, day in and day out. You haven't got a clue how we feel. You know if I'd fallen off a horse, you'd have told me to get straight back on right? RIGHT?"

Lenny stood speechless as he watched the young man in front of him pace and rant and witnessed first-hand the further suffering his actions had caused and merely nodded his head in response. On seeing Lenny's nod, Steve stopped pacing and stood still, squaring up to the slightly taller man and the clear pain and upset that filled the two green eyes that stared at him unnervingly, sent a momentary chill down Lenny's spine.

"But what do you guys do instead huh? HUH? Well I'll tell you. You take away the horse ... I guess you'd call that progress, huh? "

With that Steve snorted derisively and turned and kept going down the stairs. Murchison shook his head dolefully, deeply regretting the fact that so far he was finding it difficult to help the young detective and seemed to be only making matters worse instead of better by his actions but determined to keep trying, he called over the railing again loudly.

"You're still obliged to turn up again tomorrow Keller. My Office. Ten am SHARP!"

Lenny waited several seconds and then heard the shouted reply echo back up the cavernous stairwell.

"Oh I'll be there. Looking forward to it!"

Lenny frowned at the sound of sarcasm that accompanied the young cop's answer and then turned and dejectedly made his way back up the stairs and back to his Office to try and help the next cop who needed him.

Steve burst through the stairwell door and slammed it shut behind him, noting that two people further down the corridor had startled and looked back at the unexpected force with which the door had been slammed. Blushing slightly, he then paced back and forth a little to try and cool his temper. Meeting the man who had caused his current demotion had made him mad but in an ironic way it had helped him clear the upset by replacing it with good old fashioned rage instead. It helped him focus better for telling Mike what he had to, yet he felt he needed to get a better handle on it than he currently had first. When he had calmed down sufficiently he then marched the last few steps down towards the outer door to Homicide purposefully. Barging in, he headed first for his desk and quickly stowed the carrier bag beneath it, pushing it as far in as it would go, so that he didn't have to deal with it for the moment. Then he picked up his jacket from the back of his chair and started to put it on. He could feel all eyes in the bullpen almost burning a hole in his back and yet he didn't dare turn around to look. He reached into his drawer and pocketed his car and house keys and saw the red drops of blood that had fallen from his finger earlier from the paper cut on his desk almost mocking him mercilessly. A cold shiver ran through him and he turned quickly from the sight, suddenly needing desperately to put some distance between him and Bryant Street, having felt he had coped with quite enough for one day already. Heading without thought straight for Mike's Office he knocked and pushed open the door in one movement without waiting for Mike's usual bellowed command to come in and started to speak immediately.

"Listen Mike, I just came back to tell you that ..."

He stopped as he noticed a man and a woman sitting opposite Mike in conversation with him and he flustered apologetically, kicking himself for being so distracted that he hadn't even noticed Mike had company in the first place.

"Oh God I'm sorry Mike. I didn't know you had company. " Then turning red faced towards the couple he continued. "Apologies for the rude interruption."

The couple stared at him strangely and so he quickly turned and went to leave and close the door again behind him, but Mike's voice halted him.

"No Steve. Wait .."

Steve looked up at Mike and saw that he too had a strange and uncomfortable expression on his face as he looked at him but he quickly brushed it off.

"It's ok Mike. What I had to say can wait ..."

"But this CAN'T. Come on in, will you please? And shut the door behind you."

Steve's brow knit in confusion but he obeyed all the same, stepping inside and closing the door, he moved forward tentatively until he was at the side of Mike's desk facing the elderly couple, while waiting for a further explanation of what was going on. The woman who had been seated, stood shakily and the man rose on seeing her and gripped her shoulders tightly as she swayed slightly. Holding out her hand towards him she spoke even more shakily.

"Are you ... Inspector Steve Keller?"

Steve took her hand and gently shook it, the cold clamminess of it making him feel even more uneasy about this whole scene.

"Yes Ma'am. I'm ... Steve Keller."

The man then gripped his hand in a tighter hold and shook it before releasing his hand and seeming to become too emotional to speak. Steve nodded pleasantly before turning to look alarmed at Mike who was looking more flustered and uncomfortable by the second. Mike definitely looked at him with deep sympathy in his blue eyes before clearing his throat loudly and then explaining in an apologetic tone.

"Steve, this is ... Mr and Mrs Peter Haskins. They're Bob Haskin's parents ..."

Steve felt as if the floor had suddenly turned to jelly beneath his feet and he swayed ever so slightly, placing his hand on Mike's desk to steady himself. The wobble was very slight and Steve hoped no-one had noticed. The couple hadn't seemed to but Mike had and Steve heard a chair being moved and Mike's hand touched his shoulder lightly.

"Steve, here ... Take my chair and sit down."

Steve spoke shakily over his shoulder.

"No Mike it's ok ... I can stand ..."

Steve cringed as he heard the white lie he had just uttered automatically, knowing that he wasn't even sure if his legs WOULD hold him up for long. Luckily Mike seemed to know the truth and as the pressure from Mike's hand on his shoulder increased, his words held no room for argument.

"Sit down Steve ..."

Steve sat down and remained watching the frail and quite obviously heartbroken and grief stricken couple who now were comforting each other in a way that tore Steve's heart apart. He wasn't ready for this meeting. Hell, he hadn't been ready for anything today and yet so much had happened against his will. He heard Mike sit on the edge of his desk just behind him and also noted that Mike's hand remained in place firmly on his shoulder, a touch that right now he was extremely grateful for. It seemed to give him strength and he knew for the coming conversation that he was going to need all the strength he could get. Before anyone else spoke, Mike piped up purposefully.

"Steve? I told Mr and Mrs. Haskins that you mightn't feel up to this conversation today and that you had to have a say in when this meeting takes place."

Looking down on his partner from a slightly elevated position, Mike noted how pale and drawn and almost ill his young partner looked. His gut was telling him that he wasn't in the right frame of mind to continue this and he worried about the further negative impact that this talk could have on him. But he also knew and had learned in the six short months that they had been partnered for, that Steve was almost as stubborn as he was and he knew convincing him of that fact would be nigh on impossible. He had almost managed to convince the Haskins to come back another day before Steve had returned at the wrong time and unwittingly entered his Office, placing himself right in the middle of the one situation that Mike had been trying to protect him from. It wasn't that he didn't sympathize with the Haskins. He did. They had suffered inexplicably, losing not only a son but a daughter in law and a precious grandson as well, but he HAD to think of Steve right now and put his partner's well being first if he was to save the young man from his own demons and return him to any semblance of the bright and full of life partner he had been before this happened. Continuing his narrative tentatively, he heard Steve's breathing quicken from where he stood.

"They ah ... called by unexpectedly and asked if they could speak with you for a few minutes. I told them you were up in a meeting with the Captain but they asked if they could wait."

Steve looked sideways up at Mike and sighed heavily, seeing the wordless advice in his partner's eyes to not go ahead with this talk today, just as Mr. Haskins seemed to find his voice again and drew Steve's eyes back towards them instead.

"That's right Inspector. Your Lieutenant did tell us that. My wife and I fully realize that the ... ah manner of our ... son's death must have been very traumatic for you and if you would prefer us to do this another time then ... of course that's fine ... Isn't it Martha?"

The woman wiped several tears from her right eye with a crumpled and used looking handkerchief that looked like it hadn't left her hand since she got the news of what had happened, as she merely nodded in response to her husband's question. Steve watched the couple and his heart went out to them. He had had the chance to talk their son out of what he did and he had failed catastrophically. Surely he at the very least owed them a few minutes of his time, especially now that his presence in Homicide was being curtailed and time itself no longer seemed to hold any great importance to him. He wondered anxiously what they wanted to ask him and felt unsure if his emotions would hold out. Considering that, he couldn't be seen to look weak in front of Mike so soon into his placement either so he weighed his options carefully for several seconds but the grief stricken eyes that remained focused on him won over his intentions regardless. He couldn't send them away to return another day. He was going to have to man up and face them and help them in any way he could. After his recent failure it was the least he could do. As their expectant eyes stared at him, Steve responded bravely.

"No, no that's ok. I can talk to you both now ..."

Two collective grateful sighs burst forth from the grieving couple as the woman sobbed into her handkerchief and Mr. Haskins spoke emotionally.

"That's very kind of you Inspector. We won't take up much of your time, I promise."

Mike frowned as he heard Steve's answer and before the talk could take place he interrupted and spoke apologetically to the couple.

"Excuse my interruption ..." Then turning to look at Steve again he whispered seriously.

"Steve, maybe we should check with Lenny if this is a good idea first ... well ... considering it's so soon after, huh?"

The mention of Murchison brought Steve's anger back slightly only serving to further strengthen his resolve.

"Mike, I don't NEED Lenny's permission to talk to these people. That's my choice and I choose to."

Mike heard the distinct bitterness in Steve's use of Lenny's name and knew in that moment he had chosen the wrong words to use in his argument. He recoiled slightly but yet persisted in his whispered entreaty.

"Look Steve, I don't think this is a very good idea ... Not right now ... I mean ..."

Steve interrupted in a frustrated but hushed tone.

"Mike, if you really want to help me here, could you please get me a cup of coffee? My throat is really dry. "

Mike knew in his gut that Steve was using the request for a drink as a way of getting Mike to leave and let him get on with things and inwardly cursed the strain of stubbornness that seemed to be influencing him but the young man wasn't getting off so lightly. Standing up Mike spoke agreeably but his glare told Steve that he wasn't happy with his decision.

"Sure, no problem ..." Then turning to the couple he asked politely. "Can I get either of you a refill while I'm at it?"

Mrs. Haskins merely shook her head and forced a smile while Mr. Haskins politely declined. Mike exited his office but left the door open so he could hear what went on from where he filled Steve's coffee cup, loading it with extra sugar that he felt the young man was going to need. Fetching it quickly, he returned into his office and shut the door once more. Heading back to his place behind Steve he handed Steve the cup just as he heard his partner's voice break the nervous silence.

"Thanks Mike ... So ... Mr and Mrs. Haskins. How exactly can I help you?"

 **A/N This update is dedicated to keller12917 ... Thank you to all those following and still supporting this story. Much appreciated.x  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Behind Him All The Way**

Chapter 5

Steve felt Mike grip his shoulder again as he waited for the Haskins to answer his question. Mrs. Haskins had started to sob quietly again and her husband was currently occupied with consoling her. Steve took the moment of respite to take a large swallow of the coffee Mike had given him but he hadn't expected the intense sweetness. Looking sheepishly sideways at Mike, he saw the older man smile and shrug his shoulders as he had noticed the face that Steve had made drinking the extra sweet coffee. Mr. Haskins then spoke and drew both their attention back to him before Steve had a chance to question Mike's reasons for sweetening his coffee so much.

"Inspector, Lieutenant, please forgive my wife. This has been a very traumatic time for us both. "

Steve spoke first, his heart going out to the frail and grief stricken woman, now sobbing silently into the already overused handkerchief.

"There's no need to apologize Mr. Haskins. We understand and I speak for both of us when I say how sorry we are for your terrible loss."

Mr. Haskins smiled gratefully at Steve and continued.

"We thank you both. Inspector, as you were the last one to speak to our son, we'd just like to know what happened exactly as you saw it and ... what he said ... if that's alright?"

"Sure ... Well, me and Mike, ah Lieutenant Stone here, were coming back from another crime scene when ah ... a call came over the radio that ah ... there was an incident on Geary Boulevard. A man carrying a firearm had entered a cafe and all officers in the vicinity were asked to attend. Me and Lieutenant Stone were just a block away so we responded ..."

From his vantage point, Mike watched Steve very closely. So far he was doing very well and was managing to give a very clear, concise and calm narrative of the events but Mike feared that would change as his narrative continued. Even though he was trying to hide it from him, Mike knew how badly the whole incident had affected his young partner and feared that in the retelling of the story, the trauma he suffered would be harder to hide. While in one way, Mike felt it might be just what he needed to start to deal with what happened, he also feared that it could also easily go very wrong and reliving the trauma might end up having an even bigger negative impact on the young man. Either way, Mike felt he had to be prepared for whatever happened and suddenly wished that Lenny was in attendance at this talk as well.

"Anyway ... When we arrived at the scene, there were a lot of people screaming and yelling and running from the cafe. Our first duty was to locate the gunman and then evacuate the other staff and customers safely ..."

"Was Bob? ... Was he threatening ... those people?" Mr. Haskins intervened, his tone holding a mixture of shame and horror.

"No Sir ... We found him in a booth at the back. He was holding the gun but we soon realized he was solely a ... a danger to himself and no others ..."

Steve took an extra deep breath as he remembered the first time he had seen Bob Haskins. The waitress that had practically run into his arms shaking as he had approached the doorway, had pointed out where he was located and he had then sent her and several other staff members running for cover as they ran out before he then headed cautiously into the cafe. Mike was pushing people back and shouted for him to be careful as he anxiously saw him enter. Steve had rushed towards the counter for cover, hunching low and then slowly peeking his head even more cautiously upwards he had scanned the booths at the back carefully before his eyes finally alighted on the sorry looking form of the gunman. A male Caucasian in possibly his late thirties, early forties was sitting in the booth, his actions shaky and out of control, his hair caked with perspiration and the gun held tightly in his right hand. He was crying and cradling the gun to his chest. Steve remembered how his heart had been hammering in his chest at the time and felt his current heart rate pick up as he recalled the feeling.

Having been almost in a trance for about a minute, Mike gently nudged the younger man out of his memories and Steve came back to the present and saw the faces of Bob Haskins' parents staring at him strangely. Realizing that he had flaked for a while he blushed and cleared his throat purposefully, taking another long drink from the coffee cup, this time not caring as much how sweet it was. He felt Mike squeeze his shoulder and he spoke this time a little more subdued.

"Sorry about that ... Where was I?"

"You were saying that ... he wasn't a danger to others ..."

Steve swallowed hard and nodded his head.

"Oh yeah ... Well when I entered the cafe ... I spotted your son in the booth at the back. He ah ... he was very distressed and ... visibly upset and he was just holding the gun against his chest ... ah ... like this ..."

Steve used his hands to show them how their son was holding the gun and he saw Peter Haskins nod in understanding.

"Mike had joined me by then and we both felt that it was more a case of him trying to ... self harm ... so he went off to alert dispatch and send for the police crisis negotiator. Trouble was he ... he was on another call out at the Golden Gate and we didn't know when he'd get there. Your son was getting more agitated by the second and he was showing signs of ... "

Steve stopped talking as he remembered how twice the young man had placed the weapon to his temple and seemed to be about to pull the trigger but had then taken it down again much to Mike and Steve's relief. Mike could tell Steve was beginning to struggle so he spoke briefly to help out.

"What Steve is trying to say is that it was looking more likely that we couldn't wait for the negotiator otherwise ... well we both felt it would have been too late to try and help your son."

Martha Haskins sobbed again and Mike felt Steve shudder as she did. He could see the young man was having his own flashback issues about the incident and so he continued the narrative for him to allow him a few more minutes to get himself together.

"As the most Senior officer at the scene I had to co-ordinate what was going on so ... Steve volunteered to go and try to talk to him."

He heard Steve taking deep breaths and squeezed his shoulder in support once more but Peter Haskins spoke before he could ask him if he was ok.

"Were you ... trained to talk to people like that?"

Steve felt beads of perspiration break out under his hairline at the question and shook his head dolefully.

"No Sir ... I wasn't but I ... I had talked a man from jumping off a roof just two weeks previous and I thought it was worth a try to save your son."

Peter Haskins dropped his head at Steve's words and Mike piped up again urgently.

"Mr. Haskins, I can assure you that Steve did everything by the book and did all he could to try and save your son. We both thought at one stage that it was working but ... well with all due respect, from what we discovered afterwards ... well it was quite plain that your son had no intention of leaving that cafe on his own two feet, no matter what Steve had said."

Mrs. Haskins started to sob again and Steve grabbed Mike's arm.

"Mike ... Don't ..."

Steve knew that Mike was merely defending him but he also felt that there was enough heartache in the small confined office already without causing any more. Mike quietened as he saw the wordlessly pleaded entreaty in Steve's eyes and blushed slightly himself as Peter Haskins threw his arm around his wife's shoulders and drew her close to his chest before he spoke shakily.

"Forgive me Lieutenant. I wasn't trying to apportion blame, believe me. I realize that my son was solely to blame for what he did ... I was just curious that's all."

"That's alright Mr. Haskins ... You had a right to ask. " Steve responded and Mike felt very proud of his partner for his obvious concern for the victim's family in spite of the trauma he himself was battling at the minute.

"How did Bob react when you approached him Inspector?"

Steve once more thought back to the time he had given Mike his weapon and had seen the anxiety on his partner's face when he had offered to go over there and try and talk him down. Mike hadn't readily agreed and it had took some amount of persuasion to finally convince Mike that he had to at least try. He had stood up very slowly from behind the counter and had addressed the gunman as calmly as his thumping heart would allow at the time.

"I ah ... introduced myself and showed him I was unarmed and asked if I could ... if I could sit and talk with him for a little while ... He ... he wasn't happy about it at first ... but he finally agreed ..."

Mike looked sharply down at Steve as he related the event and knew he was holding back facts that would alarm them as he recalled some flashbacks of his own. Mike remembered how nervous he felt as he had watched Steve trying to interact with the very obviously volatile and disturbed gunman. Steve had started walking very slowly towards him as he spoke, drawing his jacket aside to show his empty holster. About half way across to the booth, Bob Haskins had started shouting and pointing his gun in Steve's direction, yelling at him to go back and leave him alone. Mike had grabbed his own gun from his own holster and held it at the ready as he almost held his breath in case Haskins decided to shoot. Steve had stopped where he stood and although he appeared calm on the outside, from Mike's vantage point he could see Steve's arms raise and saw them shaking ever so slightly. After cajoling him for several more seconds, the mentally unstable young man finally seemed accepting of his presence and lowering his weapon, Steve had moved forward again slowly towards the booth and had slid carefully into the seat, however more yells followed as Bob demanded that Steve keep his hands on the table in full view at all times. Mike had tried to sidle closer too just in case but his slow movements had been picked up on and Bob's gun had been pointed at Steve a second time as he demanded that Mike retreat back to the doorway as the only man he would speak to was Steve. Seeing Steve under threat for a second time, Mike had had reservations about leaving his partner at this disturbed young man's mercy and had called to Steve anxiously. He remembered Steve's shaky reply as clear as if he had just uttered it. _"It's alright Mike. Do what he says. I'll be ok. We're just going to talk ..."_ With extreme uneasiness Mike had backed up slowly to the doorway and remained there but as a result he could only pick up bits and pieces of what they discussed thereafter.

"What did he talk about with you?" Mr Haskins asked.

"At first he wasn't making any sense. He was ... highly agitated and upset and so I made small talk to try and calm him down. I asked what he'd let me call him and he said Bob. I asked him ... if he had any family and he said he had ... "

Steve paused again and looked downwards briefly.

"I didn't realize the full significance of what he actually meant until afterwards ... Later on when I heard about the second crime scene ..."

All four people in the room went silent as those words sunk in and there was a reverence about the silence that mourned two innocent lives taken so cruelly. It was Mrs. Haskins that unexpectedly spoke next.

"Did ... did he mention them at all?"

Steve looked back up to meet her stare and shook his head sadly.

"No Ma'am. He just kept saying that he did a very bad thing and he didn't deserve to ah ... live. I told him everyone deserves a second chance and that there was always another option to what he was planning. But he wasn't listening ... I tried again to tell him that no-one should feel that suicide was the answer to anything and that it just left even more hurt behind. I told him there were people who could help him if ... if he'd just ... let them."

Steve's voice was becoming thick with emotion and the level of almost personal angst that filled each recollection started to bother Mike even more. Steve hadn't known the young man and yet he spoke as if he were a close friend that he had failed! Alarm bells went off in Mike's gut and he made a mental note to look into that further. He edged a little closer to where Steve sat and moved his hand from Steve's shoulder up to the back of his neck for added support. As Steve felt the new grip, he froze briefly and then slowly relaxed as Mike heard him breathe deeper again.

"I ah ... I really thought I was making a difference. He ... seemed to calm down a bit and I asked him to give me the gun and told him we'd walk out of there together but then he just stared at me and then calmly told me it was time for me to leave ..."

Mike exhaled sharply as he heard Steve's last sentence. He hadn't heard about Bob asking Steve to leave before and was wondering why, having been given a stark warning, Steve hadn't just left and avoided the ensuing trauma and also why he hadn't mentioned that fact before. Unable to contain his curiosity, he interrupted Steve before he could continue any further.

"Wait a minute ... He told you to LEAVE?"

Steve looked back up at Mike and realized that he purposely hadn't mentioned that fact before and that now he had let the proverbial cat out of the bag. He flushed redder in the face as he nodded in response hoping that with the grieving parents in attendance, he wouldn't press the issue further for now, but Mike was not deterred, almost forgetting the Haskins were even there in his need to know why Steve hadn't left the danger zone when things had obviously reached a hopeless level.

"STEVE! Why didn't you mention that before? "

"I don't know ... I guess it must have slipped my mind ... What does it matter?"

"It matters because he gave you the chance to leave before you witnessed what happened next! You could have avoided seeing what you saw. Why didn't you leave?"

Steve seemed to fluster as he stammered out a response.

"I ... I had to keep trying Mike. There was still time ..."

"Steve, if he told you to leave he had already made up his mind!"

Seeing the Haskins watching their discussion nervously, he appealed to Mike to drop the issue for now, inclining his head towards the Haskins as he did.

"Mike, PLEASE ... can we discuss this later?"

Mike looked across at the elderly couple and apologized before turning his uncomfortable glare back towards his young partner.

"Forgive me for interrupting ... Please go on INSPECTOR ..."

Steve knew that Mike's use of his formal title meant that he wasn't off the hook for that by a long chalk but pushing that from his mind for now, he turned towards the Haskins again.

"As I was saying ... Things happened really fast after that. He said ... that I couldn't help him. That there was only one way for him to find peace. I told him ... I wouldn't leave him and that nobody should ever feel that suicide was their only option but he ... he just stared at me and then ... then he ... "

Mike's unforgiving glare softened as he heard the torment in Steve's last muttered words. Words that ended prematurely as if giving them a verbal existence would only make the horror of it all too real again. He watched as Steve hung his head and his hand returned to squeeze the back of his partner's neck. He felt Steve breathe deeper again and then heard Steve's voice recover a little and continue.

"I tried to stop him but ... he was too fast. I ... I reached for the gun but he'd fired it in a split second ... Then it ... it was too late ... I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Haskins ... I really tried to save your son but ... I ... I couldn't ..."

Mrs. Haskins watched the young Inspector with tears cascading down her cheeks in silent grief, her husband's arm still holding her securely to his side. She cleared her throat and reached across to place an understanding hand on Steve's arm.

"Did ... did ... he suffer?"

Steve shook his head dolefully.

"No Ma'am. He ah ... he died instantly ..."

Steve watched as she closed her eyes almost in silent relief and a pained sob tore from her lips, so heart wrenching that it drew the attention of the detectives outside in the bullpen as all eyes alighted on the occupant's of Mike's Office.

Mr. Haskins comforted his wife and seeming to pull himself together, he too spoke emotionally to Steve.

"Thank you Inspector for telling us about what happened and especially for not leaving him. Your Lieutenant is right. It took a lot of courage and human compassion to not just walk away while you had the chance. We can never repay the kindness you showed to him by not giving up on him and for not letting him die alone. We will be eternally grateful to you for that. "

Steve's emotions were starting to fray and he felt a lump starting to build in his throat. He found he could only nod gratefully and struggled to even say just a few words.

"I'm just ... sorry it wasn't enough ..."

Mr. Haskins then stood and pulled his wife up with him, visibly helping her stand. Steve stood up too but his legs still felt very wobbly and he feared they would buckle if he stayed standing too long. He took the hand that was extended towards him and felt the strong hand tighten around his.

"Thanks for your time Inspector. I know this has been hard for you too and I'm sorry that our son brought this heartache and pain to us all. He was a proud man. The day he lost his job, things went downhill for him. He couldn't bear not being able to support his family. We offered to help all we could but he was too proud for that. I guess ... I guess we ... WE were the ones who failed him the most if he was driven to do what he did ... You have nothing to be sorry for. You did all you could ... Thank you."

At the last two words, the vicelike grip on Steve's hand tightened even more and Steve could see in the older man's eyes his strength failing him, his last words proving to be too close to the truth for comfort. Steve couldn't get his voice to work so he merely shook the man's hand back warmly, hoping that he read from it the deep sorrow and sympathy he felt for them in their tragic loss. Mike rose from his seated position too and went behind Steve to cross to the door, ready to open it for the departing couple. Mrs. Haskins clasped her husband to her tighter but then spoke with a renewed strength.

"Inspector, could I ask just one more question of you, please?"

"Martha, the young man has given us enough of his time. Can't you see how tough this has been for him to talk about too? Let's just go now, ok? We heard what we came to and we ... we have lots of arrangements to make."

Martha Haskins almost shrunk at the tone of her husband's words but Steve knew he hadn't said them in such a hurtful way intentionally. It was the upset and the hurt talking. Steve knew that only too well. He felt sorry for the grief stricken woman who now humbly and obediently hung her head to follow her husband from Mike's Office but Steve strongly felt that he could NOT just let her go. He stepped forward, swaying slightly on his feet and gently clasped Martha's arm.

"That's alright Mrs Haskins. You can ask one more question and I'll answer it as best I can ..."

The couple both turned and Martha's eyes glistened with grateful tears.

"Did ... did Bob mention us at all when he ... when he talked to you?"

Steve swallowed hard and hung his head as he heard her question. Bob Haskins had been so distraught and locked in his own misery before his untimely death that he had mentioned no-one but himself but Steve could see the deep need in this woman's eyes to hear that he had. He had the means to help her but it would mean bending the truth. He struggled with his conscience for several agonizing seconds before making his decision and lifting his head to meet her eyes.

"Yes ... He ah ... mentioned you briefly when I asked about his family. He said to tell you that he loved you both very much and that ... he hoped that you could forgive him for what he did and that ... he was really sorry for letting you both down ..."

Martha's eyes spilled fresh tears but a very distinct brightness filled both their eyes as they heard Steve's words. A very fragile smile crossed her face and she reached out to place a very shaky hand against Steve's cheek.

"Thank you ... and God bless you, young man. "

Steve closed his eyes as her hand touched his cheek and he felt the lump in his throat grow until it almost constricted his ability to swallow. He clasped her hand where it lay and pressed lightly.

"You both take care now ..."

"You too ..." she responded warmly.

Mike then spoke, trying to lighten the tension that had built to fever point in the small confined space.

"Allow me to walk you both out. It's the least I can do ..."

Mr. Haskins responded to Mike as Martha remained staring gratefully at Steve.

"That's very kind of you Lieutenant but we have to visit the Coroner's Office next to make arrangements to collect their ... their remains. They wouldn't let us view our son ... The damage was ... by his account too horrific ... "

Martha sobbed again loudly into her handkerchief and Steve swayed again at the memory, unseen by the Haskins but noticed by Mike's eagle eyes. He stepped back to clasp Mike's desk and steady himself as the flashbacks of that moment caught him by surprise. The deafening sound of the gunshot and the spray of blood and other particles that had covered him in seconds, causing him to close his eyes instinctively. The view that had met his eyes as he had finally reopened them and the surreal and shock filled moments that followed in a blur as the place swarmed with police officers and paramedics within seconds. Mike's muffled words as he had grabbed him and lifted him to his feet from the booth and guided him away from the gruesome scene.

Mike's voice drew his attention back to the present as he spoke to the Haskins kindly but Steve never even noticed how his eyes had never left him all the while.

"Let me show you the way. Please ... after you ..."

Mike opened the door and held his hand out and after mumbled goodbyes all round, the Haskins left Mike's Office and headed for the outer door of the bullpen, their progress being surreptitiously watched by all the detectives present. Steve went to follow but Mike held out his hand and spoke firmly.

"Steve, stay put. Sit down and drink your coffee and DON'T MOVE until I get back! Do you hear me?"

Steve nodded reluctantly, not really feeling up to anything else if he was being honest with himself. He watched as Mike closed the door behind him and followed the Haskins out of Homicide before slumping heavily back down into the chair. He wiped at his face with both hands to somehow dispel the imaginary blood that seemed to constantly dwell there since the incident and then he rocked back and forth briefly before grabbing the coffee cup and taking a large mouthful of the way too sweet beverage. He then leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he once more thought about the aftermath of the incident. It all seemed so blurred in his brain. He vaguely remembered Mike wiping some of the blood off his face with his handkerchief as he was put sitting at the back of an ambulance as the scene was secured and people were rushing back and forth in a frenzy of activity. Police sirens and barked instructions filled the air around him and he remembered a blanket appearing from nowhere to rest around his shoulders.

He shook himself to clear the tortured visions and wrapped his two hands around the coffee mug as a different scene now came back to torment him. An alleyway. A ramshackle and rundown apartment. The young body on the bed, cold and rigid. The loud sound of the unexpected gunshot outside. His view from the window of the blood splattered windscreen of the black and white patrol car. The panicked descent down the stairs and the sight that had met his eyes as he had reached it and the tortured yell that had left his lips as he had realized his partner's fate. With those combined and painful memories in his head, haunting him mercilessly, he waited anxiously for Mike to return.

 **A/N Sincere apologies but during the remainder of my kid's Summer break the timing of my updates will remain unpredictable. Some will be timely. Others frustratingly slow but I can only promise to update as I can. Family must always come first. I'm sure Steve and Mike would understand ...I just hope that you the readers do too.. :-)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Behind Him All The Way**

 **A/N : I felt compelled to add an author's note to today's update. It was with great sadness and dismay that I came online this morning to see that an anonymous reviewer had used this story of mine in an attacking review on another writer here at the fandom. I cannot condone such an act and am appalled by it. Every writer is entitled to write and post their stories on this site and as a growing fandom of 237 stories of course similar themes will occur from time to time. I see no harm in this as each writer has their own unique voice and if ten of us were to write a similar theme they would invariably turn out completely different by the pure nature of being unique human beings with different thought processes. I am confident however that the majority of readers here at the fandom can plainly see that our two stories are widely different and can accept them both on their own merits.**

Chapter 6

Steve sat in Mike's office, leaning forward, staring into his cooling coffee cup and totally lost track of the passage of time as the unwelcome memories came back thick and fast. A mixture of sadness and regret filled his heart as he swirled the thick black liquid around the cup in a circular motion, watching the mesmerizing pattern it made as he remembered that day as if it had only just happened mere hours ago and not the two long years since it actually had. Two years almost to the day. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed Mike reenter the bullpen and when the door opened unexpectedly as Mike barged in, Steve jumped and straightened up, the coffee that had been swirling seconds earlier now slopping unceremoniously over the rim and across the front of Steve's shirt and dripping onto the floor.

"OH! ... Damn! ..." Steve uttered, caught totally off his guard, as he grabbed his now soggy shirt and bunched the damp patch of material together in his hand away from his skin. While the coffee hadn't been hot, it was still on the warm side.

Rushing forward, Mike grabbed some paper napkins from his top drawer and handed them to the still slightly startled young man and watched as he accepted them readily and started wiping at his shirt distractedly, his shakiness now slowly being replaced by an embarrassed flush to his cheeks instead. Seeing his visible discomfort about the incident, Mike broke the silence in the office.

"Sorry about that Buddy boy. I didn't mean to startle you ..."

"It was my fault ... I didn't see you come back. I guess I was ah ... somewhat distracted. Oh God! I got your carpet. Sorry Mike ..." he added vaguely, seeing the stain on Mike's carpeted floor and frowning as he bent down to press a paper towel against it to soak up the spilled coffee.

Reaching forward, Mike grabbed his partner's arm, catching his attention.

"Steve, leave that will you? It's ok. I'll get Charlie the cleaner later to look after it. Sit up ... Please?"

Steve abandoned his work on the carpet stain and sat back up somewhat anxiously as he recognized the appeasing tone in Mike's voice that usually meant that an uncomfortable topic of conversation was about to follow. He grabbed another paper napkin and started wiping at his shirt again, more as a means not to have to look the older man in the eye, than to remove the remaining dampness that lingered. As he wiped, he asked compassionately.

"Were ... the Haskins ok after they ah ... left?"

Mike sat on the front of his desk near Steve as he answered sadly.

"They were as ok as can be expected under the awful circumstances. I brought them down to Bernie. He's looking after them, don't worry ... I think talking to you helped them though. They seemed a little easier after hearing about what happened. You ah ... did a fine job of speaking to them, you know? You gave a very professional account all things considered. It well ... it can't have been easy."

Steve stopped wiping his shirt as he processed Mike's words and dropping the now soggy paper napkin down onto the desk, he finally made eye contact with his partner. Mike however didn't like the level of uncertainty he read in the young man's eyes as he heard Steve's subdued voice respond.

"Did I?"

"What? You don't think you did?"

Steve hung his head and shook his head softly.

"I'm not sure. I tried to but ... I'm not sure if I helped or ... if hearing the facts only made their pain even worse ..."

Mike felt a strange, sudden need to purge Steve of the negative self doubting thoughts that seemed to be plaguing him at the minute and he reached forward and gripped Steve's shoulder in an unexpected fashion which succeeded in drawing Steve's attention back up to his Lieutenant.

"Now you listen to me. I was here remember? I watched you and heard you tell that account and as an independent observer I'm TELLING you that you did a fine job, ok? I was with them as they went down to see Bernie and I saw with my own eyes the good your talking to them did, so no more questioning that, ALRIGHT?"

Steve startled a bit at the level of heartfelt purpose Mike's words held and he knew Mike would take no argument about the fact. He nodded agreeably and cleared his throat before returning his look down to the new annoying stain on the front of his second shirt of the day. Mike hadn't meant to be so forthright in his statement so he let go of Steve's shoulder and changed tactics as he spoke more casually.

"Looks like well ... maybe ... maybe I was wrong about it not being a good idea, huh?"

Steve looked up at that statement and couldn't help the fragile smile that played on his lips.

"Lieutenant Mike Stone thinks he might be wrong ... That has to be a first ..."

Seeing the playful hand swatting in his direction, he ducked expertly and chuckled for the first time in three days. It felt good even for the few seconds it lasted.

"Wiseguy! " Mike berated but added playfully " besides ... I said MAYBE I was wrong ... Just maybe ..."

Steve chuckled briefly again and then flustered a little as he sat up straighter and smoothed his soggy,stained and now wrinkled shirt back into place. Pointing at the stain, Mike spoke in a casual tone, trying to make the most of the sudden upturn in Steve's rather dark mood of late.

"I hope you still have another clean shirt in your locker?"

"Ah yeah ... I think I have one more. Guess I better make a trip to the Laundromat later, huh? I'm gonna start running out of clean ones at this rate ..."

Seizing the moment expertly, Mike tried to maneuver the conversation back to a more serious topic.

"Can I ask you something Steve?"

Steve cringed inwardly as Mike's face remained unreadable.

"I guess ... "

"Why didn't you leave Haskins when he told you to?"

Steve groaned and shook his head in frustration, knowing full well Mike would broach the subject again but hoping it wouldn't have been so soon after.

"Aw Mike ... Not now, please? ..."

"Yes now. Why DIDN'T you LEAVE? "

Steve was now flustering and his annoyance at Mike's pressing was increasing. He responded in an irritable tone.

"I don't KNOW, OK? I ... I thought I had more time to persuade him ... I don't know Mike."

Mike leaned forward further into Steve's personal space and Steve instinctively pulled back away slightly, the back of the chair not allowing him to pull as far back away as he wanted to. Mike decided to push a bit harder and see if it had the desired effect. The boy needed to come clean but asking nicely so far wasn't working ... Putting added pressure on just might work but he had to tread carefully. Too much pressure could have the opposite effect and could also damage him even more. Mike trusted his skills enough to read it right. With added fury purposefully intoned in his voice he countered Steve's feeble excuse and watched as Steve squirmed where he sat.

"Don't give me that! You can read people very well. I've only been partnered with you for a short time but I've seen you in action. You read people well ... almost as good as me. That's one of the reasons I took you on. You remind me a lot of me at your age. I had to see if there was anyone that could be as good a cop as I am ... So let's try that again. You had to have read in his eyes that there was no stopping him. So why didn't you just leave him to it and save yourself the heartache? WELL?"

"I ... I had to keep trying. Yeah, I read his eyes and you're RIGHT, ok? Is that what you want to hear, HUH? It looked pretty hopeless but ... you can't just give up on people like that. If everyone walked away what hope would there be? Someone had to keep trying ... Nobody should die alone like that! It's ... it's not ... it's not right Mike ... Someone ... someone has to keep trying ... to help them ..."

Steve's response started out hostile but by the last sentence the fight had left him and his words broke intermittently as the angst and palpable hurt shone through them. Mike pulled back feeling that he had stepped very close to a line he shouldn't cross. Something was off about this whole thing and Mike felt strongly that there was more to this than met the eye. Feeling that there was a personal angle to this that he didn't fully understand, he allowed Steve several seconds to recover after his heart wrenching rant and then asked more compassionately.

"Steve? Had you ever met Haskins before? As a cop or ... even outside of work altogether?"

Steve's head whipped up at that question and his eyebrows knit together.

"NO! Never! ... Why did you ask me that?"

"Oh, no reason. Just thought I'd ask ..."

Mike believed Steve but there was still something niggling at him. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He stood up and paced in a small circle, his arms crossed and his finger resting on his upper lip as he tried to fathom what was going on in his young partner's head. A task he suddenly felt vastly unqualified for. After several more unnerving seconds passed, Mike wheeled back towards Steve and spoke again, hearing Steve's breathing a little labored as he did.

"Well ... we've talked about why you didn't leave him when he asked you to and we've established that the Haskins are as ok as can be expected so ... how about you? "

Steve's questioning eyes looked up to meet his partner's and his brow knit in confusion for a second time, suddenly feeling as if he had missed a part of the conversation along the way somehow.

"What? ..."

"You heard me. How about you? How are YOU holding up?"

Steve blushed and flustered at Mike's question.

"I'm ok ..." came the standard answer, which was met by a definite glare from his Lieutenant so he quickly adjusted his initial phrase to try and steer the topic back away from his emotional well being and onto a more comfortable footing, deciding a little humor might help achieve that particular goal. "Well apart from being a little damp and ... a little high on sugar ..."

Steve sent a shifty sideways glance up at Mike and asked as casually as his emotions would allow.

"How many sugars did you put in that coffee anyway?"

Mike's face remained serious and Steve knew he wasn't buying the humor routine in any shape or form. With an almost disappointed look in Steve's direction, he spoke seriously.

"Four ... I put four in it."

Swallowing hard as his breathing suddenly felt constricted under Mike's steady and unrelenting glare, he piped up awkwardly again.

"FOUR? WHY? You know I only take one in my coffee ..."

"I thought you needed the sugar boost. Especially seeing as you're not eating or sleeping too well at the minute ..."

Steve couldn't take the pressure a second longer and as Mike's last statement hit too uncomfortably close to the truth, his anger took over and he jumped to his feet and wagged a shaky finger in Mike's direction.

"Now look Mike ... I know what you're trying to do, ok? Trying to psyche me out like you do to the perps you interview. Get me to slip up and say things you think I'm trying to hide but that won't work on me, ok? I'm FINE! I'm just SICK of people trying to tell me what's best for me and HOW I should be feeling and WHAT I should be doing! You know nobody, including you, has ONCE even asked my opinion on what I NEED! Have you guys ever thought that maybe ... just MAYBE what I need most is for you all to just GET OFF MY BACK! "

Steve's last statement came out as a loud yell and he was breathing heavily after his irritated rant. Mike stood very calmly watching him and spoke even more softly as he heard Steve finish.

"Are you done? Only you're causing a bit of a scene for the guys out there."

Steve looked behind him sheepishly and saw the rest of the detectives staring at him through the glass panel of Mike's office, from their desks. Their eyes all held a pity that sickened Steve to his stomach. He looked back away quickly towards Mike and looked mortified by his own uncontrollable, recent outburst. He crossed his arms across his chest before running one hand uncomfortably through his hair and then down to rest over his mouth and almost shook where he stood as he struggled to find the words he needed to apologize with. Mike felt sorry for the young man and stepping forward purposefully, he closed the blinds that now hid them from prying eyes and turned to place both hands on the back of Steve's shoulders wordlessly. Steve's heart wrenching tone then broke the silence.

"I'm ... I'm sorry Mike ... I shouldn't have yelled ... I ... I don't know where all that ah ... came from. "

"It's ok Steve. Sit back down, will you? ... Please."

Steve stepped slowly sideways and visibly slumped into the chair, still reeling from the fact that he had just let his feelings out so blatantly, without thought or control. It was so unlike him and he wasn't sure why it had happened like it had.

Mike came to sit on his desk in front of him again and leaned down to draw his attention.

"I'll tell you where it came from Buddy boy. It came from here." Mike said pointing a firm finger into Steve's chest near his heart to make his point even clearer. That's where you keep all your feelings locked away where people can't reach them or read them or know them, isn't it? You see ... I've only known you ... what is it six months yet? And what I've gleaned from you since then is that you control everything that happens to you in that well ordered head of yours. You have an uncanny ability to stop things from showing if you have to. Now so far it's served you very well but this ... this Buddy boy has somehow knocked you left of center and you're struggling to get that control back. What you just let out is what you're really feeling right now and that's the sort of thing you need to talk about and tell someone about whether it's Lenny ... or me ... or someone else you trust. Do you understand that? "

Steve looked back up at Mike but during Mike's talk he had used the time efficiently to pull his unraveled emotions back into place. With renewed defiance he uttered courageously.

"No, no you're wrong Mike. I've just ... I've just had a really bad day that's all. We all get those from time to time right? I just need some time away from here to clear my head of a few things that's all, without people constantly bugging me or staring at me like I'm about to implode at any second. "

Mike scowled again as he watched Steve's invisible protective shield rise again before his very eyes having seen it drop so dramatically just minutes before. Mike prided himself on being able to read people better than most but his new partner was proving to be quite a challenge in that department. He had a unique set of admirable coping skills that served him well on the job but on the other hand didn't do him any favors on a personal level and left him open to very private and unshared torment. He watched as Steve stood again and regrouped as he flustered another response.

'Listen I ah ... I just came back earlier to let you know that the Captain gave me the rest of the day off and that he's ... he's taking me off the streets until Lenny certifies me back fit for duty ..."

Mike's face darkened even more.

"Oh he is huh? Well we'll just SEE about that! " Mike barked as he reached down and picked up the phone to dial.

Steve crossed the distance between them in one step and pressed the top button on the phone to end the call.

"MIKE! Don't ... Please ... Just leave it ok? There's nothing you can do about it anyway. He ah ... he told me that and ... maybe it's for the best. I have to let him know by tomorrow if I want to take it as compassionate leave or stay at my desk. "

"So you're just going to take this lying down huh? Give up without a fight? Is that your plan of action? Well is it?"

Mike's words hit hard but Steve felt he couldn't rise to the verbal challenge. Knowing how terrible and defeatist it sounded, he hung his head and nodded.

"Yeah ... yeah that's EXACTLY what I'm going to do Mike. Didn't you tell me recently that you can't fight the system?"

Mike stared at Steve and felt saddened by his lack of fight. The enthusiasm and the life had ebbed from his young partner's eyes in a dramatic fashion since this grizzly episode and he frowned as he heard his own teachings used against him on this occasion.

"So that's it huh? You're going to throw my teaching back at me for your own excuse. So you can just lie down and play dead and roll over whenever they tell you too. Is that it? I might have told you not to buck the system but that doesn't mean you can't bend the small rules a little here and there when the need arises. You sure you want to play it like this because if you DON'T! Well ... if you don't want to ...I'll fight in your corner on this one without question, all the way."

Steve felt grateful for the older man's offered support but right now he wasn't sure what he wanted exactly anymore. All he knew was he needed to get away for a little while to regroup and work it out. And sleep ... God how he needed to sleep! Looking at Mike and managing to force a little smile he spoke in a tired and worn out fashion.

"Thanks Mike ... I appreciate that but right now ... Right now I just want to go home ..."

Mike stepped forward and clutched Steve's right shoulder in a firm grip.

"I meant what I said the other day Steve. We're partners. What happens to you, happens to me. You're not in this alone so do me a favor and stop acting like you are, will you?"

Steve just nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.

"What are you going to do?" Mike asked, unable to hide the concern from his voice.

"I don't know Mike. But right now, I'm going to go change my shirt and then head home to work it out. I'll call you later, ok?" He stated casually as he pulled away from Mike's grip gently and headed for the office door. Before he could pull it open, Mike's voice followed him.

"Make sure you do! And Steve? Everything's going to be ok. I promise you. "

Steve nodded once more and then opened the door and left. Mike noticed that he didn't even stop at his desk but kept walking and saddened even more as he noticed the discomfort on the young man's face as he purposely avoided the eyes of all his colleagues in the bullpen as he strode hastily out of Homicide. Sinking back down onto his desk he mumbled under his breath despairingly.

"What am I going to do with you Buddy boy? What AM ... I going to do? ..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Behind Him All The Way**

Chapter 7

Steve had hurried out of Homicide not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from the other guys on his way out. It had been hard enough to try and fit in these last six months with the group of detectives that had been together now as a regular team for the past four years. Most of them were a good bit older than him and most were married and settled down. Given the glaring generation gap and his fast promotion to his current rank, Mike hadn't been the only one to judge him on his first day there and it had taken a lot of effort on his part to prove himself a worthy colleague for not only Mike but the others as well. Most had in the end proved welcoming for the most part and he had become quite friendly with a few of them but there were still exceptions. O'Grady and Burke still didn't acknowledge him too well, choosing to give him the cold shoulder except where their job meant they had no other choice but to interact with him and Haseejian had seemed to make it his life's work to tease him and prank him at every opportunity. Mike's use of the nickname Buddy boy had made him the butt of most of Haseejian's jokes but Steve had put up with enough jokers in his life so far not to be too put out by them and for the most part, he successfully managed to ignore the Armenian detective's ill chosen jibes but today he was in NO mood whatsoever to have to deal with the man.

Having reached the relative safe haven of the outside corridor, Steve sighed heavily and started walking down towards where the locker rooms and shower rooms were located, a mild headache now beginning to build deep within his skull. He cursed himself as he went, when he thought of the way he had yelled at Mike and let down his guard so carelessly. Reaching the end of the corridor and ready to turn left towards the locker rooms, Steve stopped and stared out of the window that looked out over the car park below. There was a steady stream of activity below as detectives and staff came and went. Having just gone two o'clock, the afternoon sun was hot and glaring, the San Francisco sky a deep welcoming shade of blue. Steve leaned against the sill, allowing himself a brief respite from his thoughts as he watched the comings and goings below with an interest borne out of just not having to think of his own troubles for a while. He saw his old partner from Vice, Assistant Inspector Alex Bridges heading towards his car and he appeared to be chatting up Rosie from the Cafeteria. Steve smiled. _Something's never change!_ he thought to himself but his smile faded fast as he then spotted Mr. and Mrs. Haskins exit the Coroner's Office off to the right and head for a silver sedan parked out front. Mrs. Haskins was physically being helped to walk by her husband and her grief even from three floors up was palpable. He stayed watching them until they pulled away. He couldn't even begin to imagine the torment they were going through but losing a family under tragic circumstances was something he could at least relate to, having lost his parents to a drunk driver at a very young age. He pulled himself away from the window and turned to head down the corridor to his left but suddenly he felt a strange need to do something else first. Hesitating for mere seconds, Steve made up his mind and turned instead to head through the stairwell door.

Arriving outside the Coroner's Office, Steve took a deep steadying breath and ran a hand through his hair to fix it into some semblance of tidiness and buttoned his jacket across to hide the glaring coffee stain before pushing the outer door open and making his way inside. Greeting Judy with his usual disarming smile he asked if Bernie was free and was directed towards the small office off to his left. Knocking casually on the door, his heart now beating a rapid pattern inside his chest, he heard Bernie's dulcet tones telling him to come in. On seeing the young Inspector enter, Bernie stood up from behind his desk and came around to speak with him. The boy looked as frazzled and as off colour as people had told him, word of the incident Steve had endured having spread like wildfire through the building.

"Steve ... what can I do for you?"

Steve shifted slightly uncomfortably where he stood but kept his tone professional.

"Ah ... Hi Bernie. I was just wondering if you had a minute free ... if you could show me the bodies from the Haskins' case ... please?"

Bernie's face fell and he looked at Steve with a worried expression.

"The Haskins' case? "

Steve could tell Bernie's suspicions were raised and so he continued his request in as steady a voice as he could muster.

"Ah yeah ... Not Bob Haskins' body but the ah ... the second crime scene bodies. I wasn't present at that crime scene so I ah ... need to get up to speed."

Steve only hoped he'd managed to make his odd request sound plausible. He wasn't sure why exactly he needed to see them with his own eyes. But he had to. He needed to put real faces to this particular tragedy to help him get past it. To realize and appreciate the extreme and utter pointlessness of what had happened. To make himself try and understand what had driven Haskins to such extremes. Bernie however stood unmoving, staring at him in a curious way. Feeling the need to say something else, Steve cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Is that a problem?"

Bernie flustered accordingly.

"No ... No of course not. Ah ... follow me."

Bernie left the room and Steve followed him down the corridor and into a large chilled room off to his left. He watched Bernie approach the wall of cold chambers and opening two steel doors beside each other he seemed to hesitate briefly and turned to address Steve first.

"Look Steve ... Are you sure you want to see these? Only it's not exactly pleasant viewing and well ... no offense intended or anything but you ah ... do normally wait at the door while Mike does this part."

Steve dry swallowed as he heard Bernie's words and for a brief few seconds he questioned his reasons for doing this but something in his gut still goaded him to go through with it. Taking an extra long breath in, he responded bravely.

"Yeah ... yeah I'm sure. I'm in Homicide now Bernie. I'm going to have to get out of that habit, right?"

Steve's voice held firm but Bernie detected a small amount of reluctance that made him doubt the answer despite the positive sounding words the young Inspector had just spoken. Shrugging his shoulders in acceptance he turned and pulled two steel tables from the drawers. He heard Steve inhale again sharply as the two covered bodies came into sight. Stealing a quick glance behind him he saw Steve shudder and hesitated for another split second before he quickly pulled the sheets down from both the victim's faces. He studied Steve closely, not liking one little bit the green, yellowy tinge that now colored the young Inspector's cheeks as his gaze never left the two bodies exposed before him. He thought he saw Steve's bottom lip quiver but the colder air temperature this room required did normally have that effect on visitors even before any viewing took place so he brushed it off. As the awkward and unsettling silence lengthened, Bernie spoke in his normal professional tone.

"One bullet wound each. The same caliber as the gun that Haskin used on himself. Two clean shots. A nasty business this one ..."

Steve opened his mouth but the sights before him held him frozen along with the air that now felt like it was chilling him almost to the bone, even with his jacket tightened so securely around him.

"Did they ... ? " was all he could manage to ask before Bernie anticipated the rest of his question and replied in a comforting manner.

"No Steve. They didn't suffer. Death would have been instantaneous in both cases."

Steve nodded his appreciation on hearing that fact and then spoke again with a definite tremor in his voice this time.

"What makes a man ... snap like that Bernie? Kill his family in cold blood like that? They had their whole lives ahead of them and then he took that away from them so cruelly. What happens in a man's brain that causes him to resort to taking his own life and in this case the lives of people he's supposed to protect?"

Bernie felt sorry for the young Inspector who looked like he currently was bearing the entire weight of the world on his young shoulders. His eyes were rimmed by dark circles and he almost didn't even resemble the lively and energetic Officer that had visited this office earlier in the week alongside Mike. Deciding that the young man had seen enough for his own good, he spoke animatedly.

"Ah now there's the million dollar question Steve but ... I'm not the right man to ask. I merely process these poor souls and on occasion try to glean clues from them that can help you guys catch their killers but ah ... Murchison is the man you need to answer that question. Maybe you should go talk to him, huh?" Bernie added, hoping that in the process, the Department shrink might notice what he was noticing and help the young man clear the demons that were obviously still tormenting him. "You ah ... done here?"

Steve nodded gratefully.

"Yeah ... Thanks Bernie ..."

Bernie almost sighed with relief that the uncomfortable viewing was now over and hurriedly turned his back on Steve to pull the sheets carefully back over the bodies and carefully return them to the cold chambers where they now rested, speaking casually back to Steve in a friendly and warm tone as he worked.

"You know you just missed Bob Haskins' parents by a few minutes? Nice people. They were arranging the collection of the remains. It's unimaginable what they must be going through, losing their whole family like that so suddenly and unexpectedly. God help them, that's what I say. "

As Bernie then closed the heavy steel doors and locked them, he never saw Steve's facial expression change and never heard him slip out the door behind him quietly. Thinking that the detective was still behind him, he continued to speak to him.

"Oh Steve! I have a report you can take up to Mike for me. He's been ringing me for it ... since yesterday morning ..." Bernie finished weakly as he turned and saw the Inspector gone. Heading out into the outer corridor he looked both ways and saw no sign of the young man and shook his head incredulously, muttering under his breath as he returned to his own office wearily.

"I guess I'll just deliver that report to Mike myself!"

Outside the Coroner's Office Building, Steve turned and headed up the deserted side alleyway beside it, that led to the back entrance. Unbuttoning his jacket, that seemed to suddenly be restricting his breathing and leaning forward against the side wall with one hand he began to heave painfully as the true horror of what he had just witnessed sunk in and he felt the acidic bile rise and burn the back of his throat. Sucking in some extra deep breaths of fresh air, he managed after several minutes to get his nausea back under control and he leaned fully against the wall as his legs threatened to buckle from under him. With unshed tears glistening in his eyes, the flashbacks started again as he relived the two horrific moments that lately seemed to relentlessly torture his every waking moment.

Back upstairs Mike had paced his office for several minutes trying to work out his next move. Finally he worked it out in his head. If this was more personal for Steve than he was letting on, then maybe ... just maybe there might be some clue in his Personnel file that would tell him what was going on. With that thought, Mike opened his top drawer and after a few minutes he pulled out two tickets and placed them in his jacket pocket before hurrying outside and informing Lee that he was leaving the Office for a while. Mike headed down to the second floor to the Personnel Department and on entering, he smiled as he saw Peggy O'Sullivan on duty at the front desk, just as he had hoped she would be. Her and her husband were very good friends of Mike's and his late wife Helen's and they still shared a close friendship. On seeing Mike enter, Peggy smiled warmly.

"Well if it isn't my favorite Lieutenant or are my eyes deceiving me? You have been somewhat of a stranger lately Mike ..." She added teasingly.

Throwing his arms in the air in mock surrender, Mike chuckled at the playful camaraderie.

"You got me ... I know and I'm sorry Peggy. I've been training in a new partner and you know how that is? Time consuming to say the least. How have you and Hugh been keeping?"

"We're both fine Mike. It's good to see you. So? How can I help you?"

"I ah ... need a personnel file ... please."

"Sure Mike ... " Peggy announced cheerfully before reaching behind her and grabbing a yellow form and placing it on the counter in front of Mike. "Just fill out the request form and I'll get one of the clerk's to retrieve it and you can collect it first thing tomorrow morning."

Mike's face clouded and he cleared his throat purposefully.

"Oh ... I see ..." Mike responded dolefully as he picked up the form and frowned at the amount of information that needed to be completed on it.

Noticing his disappointment, Peggy asked in a tone of concern.

"What's the matter Mike?"

Leaning forward slightly he spoke in a more whispered tone.

"I ah ... I need it sooner Peggy IF that's possible?"

Peggy studied Mike closely sensing that something was wrong.

"Oh I see, you mean ... as in today?"

Mike shifted uncomfortably against the wooden counter and spoke with a definite flush to his cheeks.

"No ... I mean as in ... now for about thirty minutes and a quiet spot to go through it would also help ..."

Peggy frowned and looked behind her nervously.

"Mike ... That's not exactly procedure and without the proper form ... I ... " Peggy flustered.

"Look I don't want to get you in any trouble Peggy ... but it's my new partner. He witnessed a suicide three days ago and he's struggling with it. I have a gut feeling that something in his Personnel file is linked to what's going on with him and I need to see it so that I can help him. Please Peggy. I hate to put you on the spot but ... this is important and I'd really appreciate any ... ah help you can give me."

Peggy leaned forward and smiled again. Mike had a charm about him that when in pleading mode was very hard to resist. Thinking for a minute and looking around carefully once more, she responded agreeably, in a hushed tone.

"Well, I suppose I could fill this form out for you and backdate it from yesterday and get you the file now while it's quiet but you'll still have to sign it for me."

"Absolutely! No problem. Thanks Peggy. I mean it ... This means a lot."

"Ok you old charmer. What's the name?"

"Steve ... Ah Steven Keller, 287 Union Street. "

Peggy headed off and arrived back with the file in her hand about ten minutes later. Handing it to Mike, she pointed to a small unused office just behind him.

"You can use in there. No-one goes in there much. I'll fill out the form and you can sign it when you give me the file back."

Smiling from ear to ear, Mike took the file and gently squeezed Peggy's arm.

"You're a treasure Peggy, you know that?"

Peggy laughed.

"Please tell Hugh that next time you see him will you Mike? Sometimes I think HE forgets."

Mike laughed now too.

"Oh I'll tell him. In fact ... I'll do one better. "

Peggy's brow knit in confusion as she watched Mike retrieve the two tickets from his jacket pocket and place them on the counter.

"I was going to take Jeannie to the new Ballet show on Saturday night but she got a party invite and can't make it. I ah ... I don't like to go to those things alone so I thought maybe you and Hugh could use them. It would be a shame to see them go to waste."

Peggy's eyes lit up as she heard Mike's words.

"Oh Mike! I really wanted to see that show but the tickets were all sold out. I ... I don't know what to say ... Thank you ..."

"No need to thank me. THIS is thanks enough. You just get that Husband of yours all ready for a night on the town, ok?"

Peggy clasped the tickets to her chest and sighed happily.

"Sure ... " and as she watched Mike head with the file into the small office, she called after him. "I'll make sure you're not disturbed Mike!"

He nodded gratefully and then entered the office and closing the door behind him he looked down at the small desk and grimaced. The office hadn't been used for quite a while and there was a thin layer of dust coating almost everything. Taking out his ever present handkerchief he wiped down the seat and sat down and then plopped the file down onto the desk as a cloud of dust rose and made me cough loudly. Scowling as the dust once more settled he made himself comfortable and opened the file. It was a relatively skinny file so he figured it wouldn't take too long to study. Taking out his glasses from his inside pocket he put them on and began reading about the Police career and background of Steven Keller.

After only about ten minutes of light reading, Mike got to the page where his partner's career on the streets began and in bold black writing the name Ed Delaney stood out as Steve's first partner. The name was vaguely familiar and pulling his glasses off his face he placed then down onto the file as he racked his memory for more details to go with the name, mumbling under his breath absentmindedly as he did.

"Delaney ... Delaney ..."

Then all at once he remembered the facts he needed to and closing the file abruptly he slapped the cover in a triumphant manner.

"THAT'S IT! I KNEW IT! ... Now I know what's bugging you Buddy boy. "

Getting up quickly he grabbed the file and neatened it, pocketed his glasses and brushed the dust off his jacket with his other hand before he headed back out to the front desk. Peggy looked up and smiled in his direction.

"Well ... THAT was quick. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes, I sure did Peggy. Here's the file back. Where do you need me to sign?"

Peggy placed the neatly filled in form in front of him and pointed to the bottom line. Signing it quickly, he then spoke gratefully.

"I can't thank you enough Peggy. You've been very helpful. Now I can try and help this partner of mine ... IF he'll let me that is! I'll see you soon. "

"Ok Mike. And thanks for the tickets!"

"You're welcome. Tell Hugh I was asking for him and tell him NOT to sleep through the second half like he normally does ..."

As they both laughed and said their goodbyes, Mike headed back upstairs to Homicide. He had just turned the corner to head down towards the Homicide outer door when a shout of his name from behind made him turn around.

"MIKE?"

Turning quickly he smiled as he saw the familiar form of the Medical Examiner heading towards him waving a file in the air.

"Mike, I was just heading up to you. Here's the Autopsy report you were looking for."

"What's the matter Bernie? Couldn't you get one of your staff to bring it up for you and save you the trip?"

"Well I was GOING to give it to that partner of yours but he disappeared before I could give it to him. "

Mike's smile faded as he heard Bernie's words.

"What's that? My partner? Steve? He was down with you? Today?"

"Yeah, just about an hour ago. He was viewing the Haskins' bodies.

Mike's stomach churned as he heard what Steve had been doing. Almost stammering his words he asked incredulously.

"Steve ... ASKED to see the bodies? "

"Yeah, I know. I thought that was odd too, especially when he normally waits at the door."

"What ... Bob Haskins' body?"

"No, he just asked to see the wife and child's. "

The colour drained from Mike's face at hearing Bernie's answer and even Bernie became alarmed.

"MIKE? What's the matter? Didn't you send him down to see them to ah ... get up to speed?"

Releasing the breath he didn't even realize until that moment he had been holding in, Mike spoke almost breathlessly.

"You ... showed them to him?"

"Yes Mike. Well, I had no reason NOT to."

"How did he seem?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly looking too good BEFORE he saw them but well he seemed ok afterwards ... Why? What's going on Mike?"

Pulling himself together Mike realized in that moment that he needed to confront Steve sooner rather than later, unable to even imagine the level of torment the young man was suffering to put himself through THAT awful experience on top of everything else. Needing to get back to his Office quickly to get his coat and hat and go find Steve, Mike spoke appeasingly to the man who was now looking even more apprehensive than before.

"Oh, nothing's going on Bernie. Don't worry about it. The boy's just taken this latest case hard that's all. I'll take care of it. Thanks for the report."

Before Bernie could ask any more questions, Mike turned and headed with a new and urgent purpose back into Homicide, leaving Bernie in the corridor open mouthed.

"You're WELCOME! " he shouted after the disappearing Lieutenant as he shook his head once more and ambled back slowly in the direction of the stairwell, muttering again to himself as he did.

"Why is EVERYONE always in such a rush these days? Don't they know how bad that is for the digestion?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Behind Him All The Way**

 **A/N: I dedicate this chapter to Sylvia Elaine, Keller12917, Helenem, Amanda England and RealLifeJoanWilder for their unwavering and loyal support of this story. I appreciate the time you take to read my updates and leave feedback and your comments mean more than you will ever know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! It would be a lonely place here without you guys! ;-) You guys are awesome!**

Chapter 8

Steve made his way slowly back inside the main building and up to the locker rooms, his legs still feeling decidedly shaky and the headache that was threatening earlier now throbbing with greater purpose right behind his eyes. He groaned as he felt a definite migraine coming on and once more cursed the distinct downturn in his luck that didn't seem to be showing any signs of improvement any time soon. He hadn't had a bad migraine for about two years now but this one was building up to be a doozy as his eyes started to feel sore and his head was starting to pound mercilessly. He knew the distinct lack of appetite and sleep had more than likely been the catalyst along with the added stress and flashbacks that refused to give him any peace. _Boy had this turned into a lousy day._ Now along with the memories already refusing to be ignored, he had the deathly faces of Michelle and Tommy Haskins to contend with and the sadness that their death conjured up for him at the tragic and wasted lives taken way before their time.

As he approached the door to the locker rooms he groaned to himself even louder as the unmistakable drone of Sergeant Norm Haseejian's voice drifted from within. _That was just about all he needed to finish his bad day in style!_ Pushing the door open he headed straight for his locker without looking to see where his least favorite work colleague was standing. Unfortunately, Norm piped up in true Haseejian style as soon as the young Inspector came into his line of vision.

"Well, well, well Tanner, look ... if it isn't the boy wonder!"

Steve felt his anger flare and yet he managed to resist making a biting response and instead chose to ignore him as he opened his locker and reached inside to fetch a clean shirt. The more sympathetic voice of Bill Tanner then joined the conversation.

"Lay off him Haseejian. "

"Aw come on Bill. I'm only kidding around. He can take it. He's a big boy. Isn't that right Keller? Hey what was that all about in Mike's office a while ago, huh? You two have a lover's tiff? Sounded fairly serious to me."

Steve's head was pounding and he was in no mood for Norm's fooling around

"Back off Norm. I'm NOT in the mood, ok?"

Bill could tell by Steve's tone that he was tiring quickly of Norm's attitude and again tried to pull the Armenian detective away.

"Aw come on Norm. For crying out loud. The guy's had a tough week. Lay off him will ya? Let's get back to work. Come on."

But Norm was in the mood for a little teasing and so didn't feel like leaving so soon, especially when he had finally, after a long six months of trying, successfully managed to get a rise out of the young, fresh faced detective.

"Oooohh! Someone got out of bed the wrong side this morning. " Norm persisted and came right up behind Steve to purposely stand in his personal space. "You not being in the mood. Is that what caused your little tiff with Mike earlier, huh?" he continued now laughing hysterically, his loud annoying laughter making Steve's headache even worse.

Turning around unexpectedly, Steve pushed Norm hard with both hands against his chest, sending the bulky form of the Armenian detective flying back into the lockers with a loud crash.

"I said ... BACK OFF!"

Norm's anger flared at the move and he came at Steve again furiously but Tanner stepped between the two of them and successfully managed to keep them apart.

"Hey you two. COOL IT!"

"Why you little ... You want a piece of me Keller, huh? Is that it? You know you need to toughen up to make it in Homicide. You can't just go off the deep end every time you see a little blood and guts, Buddy boy. Maybe you should have stayed in Vice where you belonged with all those ladies of the night, huh? They're more up your street if you know what I mean?" Norm ranted angrily, peeved that Steve with his distinct disadvantage in both size and bulk had managed to almost knock him over and make him look bad in front of his partner and friend.

Norm's errant and disrespectful use of the words Buddy boy set Steve off and he tried to push past Tanner to take a swing at the mouthy detective but Tanner pushed him back and held him there as he roared back at Norm.

"NORM! THAT'S ENOUGH! That was out of line. Now get out of here and head back to the office."

Norm looked suitably embarrassed by his partner's yell and allowing his anger to cool a little, he picked up his jacket and moved towards the door, throwing a steely glare back at the young Inspector as he did.

"You watch your back Keller. You might just find out what happens to jumped up rookies who get a little too big for their boots."

Tanner watched until Norm had left and then turned back towards Steve who was still breathing erratically, the annoyance still clearly visible on his face. As he stopped struggling against Tanner's hold, Bill eased up his grip and spoke to the young detective in a calm and friendly voice.

"Hey! ... Hey! Take it easy Steve, will you? ... You ok?"

Steve nodded but still spoke in an angry tone.

"What's that guy's problem with me, huh? Apart from never knowing when to keep his big mouth shut!"

"Look, don't let him get to you kid. Some of the guys just resent the fact that you got your promotion so fast, that's all. They'll get over it."

"No kidding! You think I haven't come across that before now?"

Bill felt for Steve on hearing those words and figured from them that Haseejian wasn't the only one that had ever given the young detective a hard time about his speedy rise through the ranks and watched as Steve turned back to his locker uncomfortably, removed his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt. Bill patted Steve on the back and spoke once more.

"Look, I'm sorry about Norm. You know he can be all mouth sometimes but believe it or not, he's ok when you get to know him. Just ... just try to ignore him for now, ok? I'll talk to him and ... try and get him off your back, ok?"

Steve nodded gratefully without turning and spoke in a more subdued tone.

"Thanks Bill. I'd appreciate that but I ah ... I don't fancy your chances."

"You gonna be ok?"

"Oh yeah ... Sure ... I'll be just fine ... Thanks."

Bill could hear the purposeful sarcasm in Steve's words but could also tell by the young man's tone that he wanted to be left alone and so with one final pat on Steve's back he left the locker rooms, casting one final look of concern back at his young colleague before he headed back to the bullpen too, determined to have it out with Norm who he felt had taken his usual teasing a step too far this time.

Finally back alone in the locker room, Steve sank down onto the wooden bench behind him and slumped forward, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his shirt still hanging open, trying to silence the pounding within his brain that was now torturing him even more after his recent moment of rage. Haseejian's words started to reverberate around his head as he sat there in pain and despair. _"You need to toughen up to make it in Homicide ... Maybe you should have stayed in Vice ... where you belonged ..."_ NO! ... Haseejian was wrong! He HAD what it took to make it in Homicide. He'd continue to prove it to them. This WASN'T his fault. He had done the best he could. There wasn't anything else he could have done differently ... OR ... or was there? Was Haseejian right after all? Had he gotten too big for his boots? Was he so sure of himself that he couldn't see where he had gone wrong? "

He straightened up and rocked back and forth briefly, unable to stop the doubts from tormenting him as even his normal reliable self confidence now seemed to fail him and he started rethinking his own actions. His migraine peaked and seared momentarily behind his eyes as his vision protested the florescent artificial lights that glared too bright down on him from above. Closing his eyes tight as tiny spots danced behind the closed lids almost in tune with the rhythmic pulsing that now assaulted his brain making his nausea return annoyingly, Steve moaned in discomfort and standing up, he reached forward, grabbing the open locker door to steady himself and forcing his sore eyes open just a crack, he reached up and rummaged desperately on the top shelf for his bottle of long since used migraine pills, hoping if he found them that they would still be in date.

Several items tumbled to the floor and clattered noisily, causing Steve to wince several times as his search turned up empty. Steve kicked the locker in frustration, instantly regretting the loud noise it generated as it vibrated through his head. Forcing himself to try and think about where he could have had them last, he groaned as he vaguely remembered seeing the small brown pill container in his bottom desk drawer while searching for typewriter paper earlier. _DAMN!_ Today's bad luck was striking again! He couldn't face Norm and the others again right now, not to mention Mike, so he was going to have to wait until he got home and was able to take the ones he knew he had safely stored in his bathroom cabinet. He only hoped his vision would serve him ok for the drive home and wouldn't deteriorate as had happened in the past when he had had severe migraines such as this one that was now building steadily deep within his skull.

Bending down carefully to pick up the things that had fallen, he piled them back into the bottom of his locker carelessly and picking up the towel that had fallen as well, he gasped as he spotted the small black leather wallet that lay beneath it. After staring at it for several harrowing seconds he picked it up with a shaking hand and sunk back down onto the wooden bench once more. It took several more seconds of labored breathing before he finally picked up the courage to open it slowly and the silver, shiny Police Officer's badge that greeted him alongside the folded and partially bloodstained note that lay beside it, made the young man's breath catch in his throat, as a solitary tear escaped and slid slowly down his right cheek. He had forgotten where he had stored that all those years before and the irony and coincidence of it appearing right now at this moment in time was not lost on him either. He ran a finger across the shiny object and a stifled sob tore from his soul as he mumbled heartrendingly under his breath.

"Oh Delaney ... Why? ... Why did you do it, huh? "

Closing the wallet quickly, feeling unable to even look at it any more, he stood up again gingerly and with more reverence than he had replaced the other items, he gently placed it back up on the top shelf and kept his hand on top of it for a moment or two before finally letting it rest where it was. Running a hand through his hair and frowning as even that simple habitual movement seemed to hurt his sore head, he caught sight of his ragged appearance in the small mirror that hung on the inside of the locker door and for a split second again saw the blood once more covering the left side of his face. He gasped again loudly before breathing through the moment like all the times before and then deciding in that instant that another shower might just ease his migraine as well as dispel, even temporarily, the horrible sensation that always coincided with him seeing the disturbed vision. He felt somehow contaminated. Like the blood that had covered him served as a reminder of his failure, both now and in the past.

Removing his gun and the hand cuffs from his belt, he stowed them safely up on the top shelf, then grabbing the towel, shower gel and spare clothes from the locker, he closed his locker door and made his way into the back room towards the shower cubicles. Entering the first one, he undressed and discarded his clothes hastily before turning on the warm water and stepping beneath the soothing spray. Scrubbing at his face purposefully first, he reveled in the fresh, clean feeling and leaned back against the shower wall, allowing the warm water to flow over him as he let the unshed tears fall silently and mingle with the warm water now steaming down his face in a steady flow.

Back up in the Bullpen, Norm and Bill had arrived back there around fifteen minutes before Mike had returned from his mission down to the Personnel Department. Norm had been on a business phone call when Tanner had arrived back up at first and for the last ten minutes, he had merely seethed silently across at his partner until Norm finally hung up the phone having completed the call. Seeing his partner's angry expression, Norm shrugged his shoulders.

"What's eating you?"

Tanner had let his annoyance at the Armenian's harsh and unfair treatment of Keller fester while Norm was on the phone, so much so, that now after asking the question, his partner felt the blunt force of his rage.

"I'll tell you what's eating me. YOU! That's what. You KNOW what the kid has been through this week. You couldn't just leave him alone, could you? You had to push it like you always do. When are you ever gonna give the kid a break?"

Norm flustered but held his ground.

"Aw come on Bill. It was just some harmless teasing. So the kid got a little too close to the fire and got himself burnt so to speak. You brush yourself off and you move on... Simple as that! Besides ... the kid gets too mothered by Stone anyway. He needs a little tough love to keep him on his toes otherwise he'll get too soft. He's had it too easy so far, that's his problem. And anyway I don't what you're yelling at me for. He's that one that got violent with ME. Remember?"

"He asked you to back off and you didn't. You had that push coming! And you don't even know the kid so how can you assume what he's endured so far. You were out of line Haseejian and if I didn't know better I'd say you were just jealous of the kid and what he's achieved at such a young age."

Norm snorted derisively and scoffed loudly.

"Poppycock! The kid is still wet behind the ears. He just can't stand the heat and needs to get out of the proverbial kitchen. Nothing more to it!"

Tanner stood up at his desk and shook a pointed finger at Haseejian and yelled at him in a no nonsense tone.

"Now you listen to ME for a change. You're going to leave Steve alone or God help me I'll ..."

Norm stood up in an angry stance and faced his partner defiantly as all the other detectives stopped what they were doing and sat watching them anxiously, not quite sure what had everyone so irritable today.

"Or you'll WHAT?" Norm challenged loudly getting annoyed by Tanner's condescending tone as he also yelled back "What are you now? The kid's new babysitter? You're MY partner! Not his! "

Bill fumed and shouted back angrily.

"Yeah, well maybe sometimes I wish I WASN'T! "

Just then the outer door to the bullpen open and Mike walked in and glared at the two men who were standing desks apart staring each other down. Both men looked both surprised and embarrassed as Mike strode slowly towards them and spoke calmly.

"What's going on here? Norm?"

"Ah, nothing Mike. Me and Bill were just discussing something and looks like we ah ... disagree strongly, that's all."

Mike eyed up Haseejian carefully, feeling that there was more to this than he was letting on. He had heard the loud yelling from out in the corridor as he had entered and although he hadn't heard the words they had shouted he had never seen the two partners argue so forcefully so he felt something serious was going on.

"Tanner?"

Tanner looked down at his desk, unable to even look up at Norm as he felt Mike needed to know what had just happened.

"We were arguing about Steve, Mike."

At the mention of his partner's name, Mike froze briefly before he turned and headed for his office and shouted as he went.

"Norm, Bill, my office NOW!"

Norm scowled angrily at Tanner as they both followed Mike into his Office and Bill closed the door as they entered. Mike stood in front of his desk and turned to face the two nervous looking men.

"Well? What was the argument about Bill?"

Norm piped up quickly, feeling that he needed to explain in order for him to avoid the wrath of his Lieutenant.

"Look Mike ... it was nothing really ... "

Mike held up a hand and interrupted the Sergeant abruptly.

"NORM! I asked Bill. You'll get your turn to tell your side next. "

Norm fell silent as he continued to glare sideways at his partner as Bill threw an almost apologetic glance over at Norm before deciding that for Steve's sake, Mike needed to be aware of what happened.

"Norm was teasing Steve down in the Locker rooms and went a bit too far ..."

Norm's scowl at Tanner intensified as he heard his partner's confession but then it disappeared again quite quickly as Mike's famous Stone glare rounded on him and lingered as the Armenian detective tried to defend his actions.

"Hey ... Mike ... It was just a bit of harmless fun that's all. The kid just can't take a joke ... I ... ah didn't mean any harm by it ..."

Mike stood up and Tanner could almost see his nostrils flare. Focusing his anger in Haseejian's direction, he spoke angrily.

"Oh I see? Can't take a joke huh? And you really think he should be in the mood for your twisted sense of humor after witnessing someone blow his brains out in front of him just three days ago? WELL? DO YOU?"

Norm flinched at the hostile tirade yet flustered even more in his own defense.

"Hey Mike. Look the kid needs to toughen up. He's going to see a lot more gruesome things than that if he stays in Homicide. You can't mollycoddle him after every little incident. He needs to shake himself and get back in the saddle ... "

Bill watched nervously as Mike leaned closer to his partner and he could see that even Norm hadn't expected the closer proximity and watched as fine beads of sweat broke out on Haseejian's brow line.

"Is that what you think, huh? Well let me tell you what I THINK, ok? Firstly, this wasn't a LITTLE incident and what's more, far more experienced officers than Steve have left the force over witnessing something like that and worse! Not everyone has a constitution like yours Haseejian that can witness gruesome things as you put it and then tuck into your lunch and crack jokes like nothing happened at all straight afterwards and SECONDLY ... well secondly if I ever need your advice about training in a new partner then as your LIEUTENANT ... I'll ASK for it! Is that clear SERGEANT?"

Norm visibly wilted under Mike's well spoken response and merely responded simply.

"Perfectly ... "

"I hope so Haseejian, I really do. Because here's a newsflash for you! Some of the things you think are so funny to you aren't funny to everyone else. They're hurtful and nasty and sometimes just plain crude. Now you've been giving him a hard time since he joined this Department and today well ... today it STOPS! Now I've let a lot of it slide up to now because Steve has been too polite to complain about it but he's got enough on his plate to contend with right now without you adding to the mix and if I hear anything after today to the contrary then I'm personally going to see to it that you're back driving black and whites! Am I making myself clear?"

"Yeah ... Crystal clear Mike."

"Good ... Now you can go back to work and earn back some of my respect while I talk to Tanner."

Norm looked from Mike to Bill and grew uneasy. What Tanner told the Boss might land him in even more hot water so he sent a pleading look at his partner but Tanner purposefully didn't catch his eye to see it. While he felt guilty for ratting on his own partner, Norm had been getting away with this kind of stuff for too long and it was about time someone told him to stop. Mike also caught the look and saved Tanner's discomfort with a dismissive wave of his hand at Haseejian.

"I SAID that will be ALL, Haseejian. You can go now."

"Wait a minute Mike. I have a right to stay and hear what gets said. You told me you'd hear my side of things too." Norm grumbled, feeling from Tanner's reaction that a full confession was on the cards and that would NOT go down well with the staunch Lieutenant but Mike responded firmly.

"I just heard all I wanted to hear from you for the time being Haseejian unless you'd like me to call Rudy down here and you can explain yourself to him too? "

Norm knew he'd been checkmated expertly and so he fumed quietly and then turned and headed out of Mike's Office in a single stride opening and closing the door with a sharp thud as both men left in Mike's Office watched him march crossly to his desk and sit down furiously. Just then Mike walked around the other side of his desk and sat down and gestured at Tanner to sit in the chair opposite which Bill obediently did.

With both men seated Mike saw Tanner glance outside and saw Haseejian watching the Office with avid interest. He saw Bill swallow hard and look away and stare at Mike's office floor and felt sympathy for his senior detective.

"Listen Bill. I know this wasn't easy telling on your partner like that. I know there's a code of loyalty and trust between partners but there HAS be a line and if one crosses it then in my humble opinion this is what SHOULD happen. You did the right thing telling me and I ... well I appreciate it. "

Bill nodded and spoke softly.

"Well ... Steve's your partner Mike and we're not all like Norm. I can't even begin to imagine what the kid is going through and after what happened with Norm he ... well he really looked down you know? I just thought that you should know ... Norm doesn't mean any harm. I mean he's not purposefully malicious but ... but sometimes ... sometimes his mouth isn't connected to his brain you know?"

Mike nodded and spoke sympathetically.

"I know that. Norm is one of a kind but he sure rubs people up the wrong way. However he's a damn fine Homicide Detective and that's why his rear end isn't up in front of Olsen right at this minute! I'll give him one more chance. Everyone deserves that much but he's going to have to toe the line and quit picking on people from now on if he wants to stay on in this Department. Do him a favor and make sure he knows that, will you?"

Bill smiled for the first time, at least relieved that despite him telling on his partner, Norm wasn't going to be reprimanded about it formally unless it happened again. He nodded pleasantly.

"Sure ... You bet."

"Ok, now tell me what happened will you? And don't spare the details. I want to know everything, got it?"

Bill sighed and nodded again.

"We were in the Locker rooms when Steve came in and ... and Norm started running off his mouth."

Mike frowned and leaned back in his chair with his fingers laced together.

"Let me guess ... He called him some name or other."

Bill nodded dolefully.

"Yeah ... He called him the ah ... boy wonder"

Mike frowned as he heard the name.

"Well, that's probably my fault. I've called Steve that on occasion myself. How did Steve react?"

"He didn't. He just ignored it and went to his locker. I told Norm to lay off him you know? But he started off again. He was teasing him over the argument in your office earlier when Steve was yelling. He ah ... he asked if you two had had a ... lover's tiff."

Mike's face darkened and he shook his head incredulously.

"Well that's very mature, isn't it? " he stated sarcastically as he cast another intense Stone glare out the glass window at Haseejian. "What happened then?"

"Steve told Norm to back off, that he wasn't in the mood but Norm went over right behind him and wouldn't drop it even though I kept telling him to leave it alone. Then Steve seemed to lose his patience and he pushed Norm hard against the lockers. Norm went for him and I got between them and kept them apart.

Mike frowned further as he heard the sordid details of the argument.

"Did any punches land on either side? "

"No Mike. But ... Norm ... he ah ... he said some pretty mean things."

Mike dry swallowed.

"Like what?"

Bill seemed to hesitate and glanced out at his partner's desk once more but the memory of how distraught Steve had looked earlier spurred him on as he continued his unfortunate narrative.

"He told Steve he needed to toughen up to make it in Homicide and that maybe he ... should have stayed in Vice where he belonged. He seemed to take it hard Mike. I got Norm out of there but Steve looked like hell."

Mike's eyes closed and he exhaled sharply.

"Of all the things he could have said to Steve, THAT has to be the worst when he's probably doubting himself already right now. Look again I really appreciate you telling me all this Bill. At least NOW I understand why he was so mad this morning coming back from his shower to the bullpen after his session with Murchison."

Bill stared at Mike in confusion.

"What? ... What are you talking about Mike? This happened less than a half an hour ago."

"A half an hour ago? You mean you weren't talking about this morning?"

"No ..."

As that revelation sunk in, Mike asked again in a tone of disbelief.

"You mean Steve is still in the building?"

"Yeah ... Well he was in the Locker rooms a half an hour ago but he didn't look that good."

Mike stood up in a hurry and Tanner rose with him alarmed by his sudden movement.

"I've got to get down there and see if I can catch him before he goes home. "

Hurrying past Tanner he grabbed his coat and hat off the coat rack and as he put his coat on he spoke.

"Listen Bill, do me a favor will you? Hold down the fort here for me, please? I'm leaving you in charge. I need to go talk to Steve and depending on how that goes I may need to take the rest of the day off. If I do, I'll call and let you know and I'll call Rudy too. Ok?"

"Sure Mike. No problem. Look ... I hope he's ok. He ... he didn't deserve what happened, you know?"

Mike patted Bill's shoulder gratefully and then turned and headed out of the bullpen at high speed not even stopping to glare at Norm as his attention now focused on one thing and one thing only ... finding and helping Steve.

 **A/N: Apologies to any Norm fans reading this who may feel I treated him too harshly but just to explain why ... I have written this story set at an early stage in Steve's time in Homicide and feel his relationship with the other guys may not have been that smooth in the beginning due to his fast promotion to Assistant Inspector and was just exploring that issue a little here ...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Behind Him All The Way**

 **A/N:This chapter is dedicated to EKWTSM9 for her kind review and in appreciation for the excellent story** ** **Appalachian Dead Draw** she has entertained us all here with for the last two months. Thoroughly enjoyed it!**

Chapter 9

Steve pushed his weary body away from the shower wall but the sudden movement caused the pain to escalate briefly and strong, uncontrollable waves of nausea washed over him as he bent double and retched violently as he suffered the indignity of the earlier digested, extra sweet coffee returning and he watched as it swirled along with the water from the shower before disappearing down the drain. He was suddenly glad it was the only thing he had consumed in the last twenty four hours as he visibly struggled this time to get the nausea back under control. As soon as he did, he turned off the shower and more slowly and carefully this time, he dried himself as best he could and dressed his lower half before draping the towel then around his neck, gathering up his stuff and walking very gingerly back to his locker. He felt very shaky and unsteady and was relieved to still find the locker rooms empty. He was in NO mood to have to deal with anyone else right now.

The shower hadn't eased the migraine as much as he'd hoped it would but at least it had banished the feeling of the blood on his face for now. He was going to have to remember to avoid sudden movements as the return to the glaring florescent lights only made his eyes hurt even more. He grabbed for the locker and stood as he laid his sore head up against the cool metal of the door while he fumbled with the lock, suddenly wishing he had just gone home earlier when he had had the chance before the Migraine had worsened. He yearned for the simple comfort of his darkened bedroom back in his apartment so that he could take his pills and shut out the rest of the world for a while.

Finally getting the locker door open he pulled a carrier bag from inside and started loading in the clothes that needed washing and then reaching up he covered his hair that was now dripping wet with the towel. He wasn't sure how he was going to get it dry as his usual vigorous towel drying method was momentarily out of the question as his head was currently too sore to even touch. So he pressed the towel as gently as he could through his hair to at least soak up as much of the water as he could instead. Reaching up blindly with one hand to retrieve his gun, and belongings he knocked the 38" and it came crashing out to land on the tiled floor with an unmerciful bang, causing his head to pound wildly again. Getting frustrated and annoyed by his rapidly debilitating headache, he fisted the locker door and banged it closed several times in an act of pure exasperation as he then stumbled backwards from the waves of pain that act generated and he sat back down on the bench, feeling as if his legs would give way if he didn't. The angry display hadn't even made him feel better and he felt his emotions start to build and betray him again as he pulled the towel down off his head to rest once more around the back of his neck as an all too familiar voice suddenly sounded from behind him and caused him to freeze where he sat.

"Hey Buddy boy ... I ah ... thought you'd gone home already. You ah ... having some problems with your locker door?" the friendly voice asked as Steve turned his head away from the direction the voice came from hastily, not wanting Mike to see the state he was currently in. Forcing his voice to work and sound as normal as possible he spoke softly.

"Ah yeah ... It ah ... keeps sticking ..." he lied and knew the excuse sounded as lame as it had to his own ears.

He heard Mike's footsteps move closer and tensed up as he now heard his partner just behind him as Mike's voice responded.

"Oh I see! ... You DO know though that well ... a little oil on the hinges would work a lot better than your knuckles though, ... huh Steve?"

Steve felt his insides recoil as he realized that Mike had obviously seen his fit of rage and he felt at a loss for what to say. He merely nodded and spoke lamely again, cursing his infinite bad luck today.

"Yeah ... yeah I guess so ..."

Steve froze as he felt Mike's hand land on his damp shoulder.

"You ah ... mind if I sit down? " Mike continued and Steve felt panic rise within him as he desperately tried to avoid the awkward situation.

Steve knew that Mike would see through him in a minute if he let this conversation continue and so deciding to be honest and appeal to Mike's sensitivity he pleaded quietly.

"Mike I ah ... I'm really not up to this, right now. Can we do this tomorrow, please?"

But Mike was not backing down. The boy was hurting and wasn't thinking straight and he was going to help him regardless of whether he wanted his help or not.

"No Steve. This cant wait any longer. We need to talk NOW Steve. "

Mike felt Steve tremble under his touch as he heard his words but the young man was still refusing to make eye contact. Drops of water fell from the end of Steve's hair onto Mike's arm and the dripping wet hair meant only one thing and that fact bothered Mike all the more and confirmed his earlier fears that Steve was suffering from physical effects of the trauma as well as just flashbacks. He tried to incline his head to get a look at Steve's face but the young man was not allowing that just yet. With a shakier voice than before Steve mumbled nervously.

"Mike ... Please ... I ... I can't ...ok?"

Steve turned away sharply as Mike came to sit right beside him on the bench without his permission but the older man's voice held compassion and understanding.

"Ok, then let me talk instead and all you have to do is listen and maybe nod or shake your head occasionally, alright? "

Mike heard Steve sigh and when he didn't answer, undeterred, he carried on regardless.

"I see you've had another shower Buddy boy ... What is that? The third one today or were there others?"

Hearing the suspicion in the subtle question, Steve's heart started to beat faster which only made his head throb faster too and he winced involuntarily as the uncomfortable topic of conversation never let up. Still without looking around at Mike, he stuttered anxiously.

"I was covered in coffee ... remember? I just ... wanted to clean up ... "

"Oh that's right! The coffee ... Or were you still trying to wash Haskins' blood off yourself?"

That statement caused Steve to sway where he sat. _How the hell could he know that? It wasn't possible for him to know that?_ Once more desperately trying to throw Mike off the scent he tried to keep the tremor from his voice as he spoke.

"I ... I don't what you're talking about Mike ..."

But Mike had seen the slight sway and tightened his grip on Steve's shoulder as he spoke firmly.

"Oh I think you do. You're still seeing it aren't you? Even though you washed it away a long time ago Buddy boy, you can still feel it on you and you keep needing to shower to wash it off ... Don't lie to me now. I know because ... well because I went through that once so you can't fool me ..."

That statement drew a sharp exhaled breath from the younger man and he almost looked around instinctively but stopped himself half way, now staring straight ahead at his locker, a slight furtive glance sideways the only brief glance he allowed Mike to get of his face.

"You? "

"That's right. Me. In Iwo Jima. During some of the firefights we had several of our fellow Marine's blood on us and even after we cleaned it off, we could still feel it for quite a while afterwards. It's quite normal to feel like that Steve but well ... you have to resist the urge to try and wash it off every time ... But that gets easier with time, believe me. I'm right though aren't I? Is that why you're showering so much today? ... Is it Steve? Have you been having multiple showers since it happened?"

Mike's words held an understanding borne from experience and that fact caved Steve's resistance. Mike genuinely understood and that HAD to stand for something. Without further protestation, Steve nodded weakly.

His honesty was rewarded by a firm squeeze on his shoulder and a warm smile that Steve felt melting the last of his resolve to deny his horrific flashbacks.

"Thanks for admitting it. I know that wasn't easy. I ah ... also heard that Haseejian was giving you a hard time a little while ago ..."

Steve's head again inclined and shot another furtive glance over at the older man as he couldn't believe Mike had heard about that incident as well.

"How the hell did you know about that?" he mumbled incredulously.

Mike half chuckled and he tapped his nose humorously.

"Oh, very little happens around here that I don't know about. You just keep that in mind for future reference Buddy boy." he added teasingly but then frowned as not even a weak smile appeared on his partner's face.

Steve looked very perturbed that Mike knew about the altercation and noticing his discomfort, Mike continued tentatively.

"Seems you gave him quite a shove, huh?"

Steve started breathing faster as he spoke now with a worried tone.

"Did ... did he report me?"

Realizing now what was worrying his partner he quickly spoke to reassure him.

"NO Steve! It was nothing like that. Tanner was concerned about you that's all. He told me what Norm said to you and ... what happened. Boy, he must have really rattled your cage today. You don't normally rise to his nonsense."

Steve sideways glance this time lasted a few seconds longer and Mike could tell he was surprised by the fleeting expression he saw on Steve's face.

"What? You didn't think I knew about his tormenting you since you joined us? I told you. Nothing much escapes my notice. Actually I admired the way you never let him get to you and I was keeping an eye on you to see how you were handling it. If you had officially complained, I would have acted on it you know? Why didn't you?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders but then regretted the movement as his headache seared as a result.

"I guess I just didn't want to rock the boat so to speak. Besides ... I've coped with worse jokers than him before."

"Until today, huh?"

"Yeah ... until today. Mike? He said I should have stayed in Vice ... Do ... do you think he's right?"

Mike scowled and then turned the question back around on him.

"Well ... what do you think?"

Immediately without hesitation at first Steve barked strongly.

"HE'S WRONG!"

But then the fight seemed to leave him as the doubts and pain resurfaced.

"At least I think he's wrong ... Oh hell, I don't know any more Mike ... I ... I feel so confused."

Steve's hands went up to cover his face and seeing his partner's visible distress, Mike let go of Steve's shoulder and instead draped his strong arm around his shoulders instead.

"Ok, take it easy now. Now's not the time for wondering about things like that or making decisions for that matter. You need to give yourself time to get over the incident first before you ever start thinking about stuff like that, you hear me?"

Steve nodded but remained in the same protected pose as Mike decided to probe further.

"There's something else we need to talk about Steve. I think I know what this is all about and it's NOT just Haskins that's bothering you is it?"

Steve dropped his hands from his face as he felt increasingly uneasy. _There's no way Mike could possibly know about Delaney!_

"What ... what are you talking about now Mike?"

Deciding it was time to deliver the punchline and study the reaction, he spoke determinedly.

"This is about ... Ed Delaney as well, isn't it?"

He heard Steve's breath catch as the name was spoken and both heard and felt the tortured breaths that followed. Steve's head turned ever so slightly and he stuttered in an incredulous tone.

"How the hell did you ...?"

Mike tightened his grip around Steve's bare shoulder and spoke in as light a tone as he could manage.

"Well I am a detective you know? And ... a pretty good one too if I do say so myself. Steve?... Why didn't you tell me?"

Steve's shoulders slumped and his head dropped and Mike could tell that he was struggling with the fact that that particular well kept secret was out. His breathing was still worryingly fast and Mike watched him even more closely as a result. Steve couldn't get his voice to work. _How could Mike have found that out? He had never talked about it to anybody. The only place he could have gotten that information from was ... from his Personnel File! Mike had been checking his file. Why would he do that ? Unless ... unless he was doubting his appointment in Homicide ... Everything was falling apart and he was just helplessly watching it fall._ Mike's voice then broke through his worries and fears.

"Steve? Please ... talk to me ..."

Steve stammered without even turning around.

"You ... you were checking my Personnel file. You were ... checking up on me. Why? Are you having doubts about me as your partner. That's it ... isn't it?"

Mike could hear the tone of betrayal and upset at that revelation and quickly refuted it.

"NO STEVE! It's not that at all. I PROMISE you. That WASN'T the reason! "

"Then why would you ... check up on me like that? Didn't you trust me?"

"STEVE! Please, listen to me will you? OF COURSE I trust you. I only checked your file because ... because I had a hunch that there was more to this than just the Haskins' case but you WOULDN'T talk to me Steve! You gave me no other choice than to find out for myself what was chewing on you. And I'm right, aren't I? It's to do with Delaney your ... your first partner, isn't it?"

Steve sighed audibly and the heart wrenching sob that escaped next, chilled Mike to the bone where he sat. He decided to wait until Steve spoke next and let the young man recover from the news that Mike knew about Delaney. He could feel Steve trembling and saw his bottom lip quivering and he worried that maybe he had spoken of it too soon for Steve to be able to deal with him knowing. He increased the pressure on Steve's shoulder and waited, his own breath quickening as he did. Eventually Steve nodded dolefully and spoke in an upset manner.

"Did you know him?"

Mike shook his head sadly.

"No ... No, not very well I'm afraid. I knew the name and knew him to say hello to but other than meeting at crime scenes occasionally, our paths never really crossed. But after the ... the incident, well it was mostly gossip I heard I guess ... that's all and well ... you know how I feel about the reliability of gossip, don't you? They said he ... he shot himself in his patrol car with his own 38" ... Is ... is that what happened Steve?"

A solitary tear trailed down Steve's left cheek and Mike inhaled sharply as he saw it. He hadn't meant to upset his partner more than he already was and he knew that whatever had happened back then had affected him deeply in that moment. Mike knew his partner had been trying to make a good impression on him since he started in Homicide and that because of that he had made it his mission to never once show weakness in front of him. Mike knew this tear was a sign that he had tried to be strong for too long.

"Yeah ... yeah that part is right ... He was a good man Mike. He didn't deserve what happened. "

Steve seemed to suddenly become aware of the tear that had escaped and wiped it away awkwardly before rubbing at his sore eyes to purposely clear any others that threatened to embarrass him further. Mike was becoming increasingly more worried by Steve's emotional and physical state as he got another brief glimpse of the shattered and frighteningly pale face of his young colleague and friend. Not sure if he should push him any further he decided to try one more question cautiously.

"Steve? Were you ... IN the car with him when it happened?" he asked very tentatively, wondering if that was the reason Haskins' death had brought the whole sorry incident back so vividly and caused the young man to relive the original horrific scene.

Steve shook his head carefully as the pounding within increased and threatened to split his head open.

"No ... No I wasn't. But I ... heard the shot ... and I ... I ... found him ...or at least what was ... left of him ... I'll ... I'll never be able to get that picture ... out of my head Mike ..."

Steve's breath was now coming in painful and tortuous heaves and Mike's heart went out to the young man who had witnessed not only one but two horrific suicide aftermaths in his young lifetime. He gripped the back of Steve's neck despite the soaked hair that covered it and he stayed providing silent comfort until Steve's breathing settled a little before speaking again sympathetically.

"Steve, I'm sorry you had to go through that. I just wish you'd told me about it sooner. Have you ... ever talked about it to anyone?"

Steve shook his head solemnly and spoke just one tortuous word.

"No-one."

"No-one? Oh God Steve, that's not healthy. Didn't you have to talk about it at the time it happened?"

Steve again shook his head very carefully but his headache was reaching a point where he wouldn't be able to hide it from Mike for much longer.

"No ... I sort of slipped through the cracks. Because I wasn't actually in the car at the time, they didn't question me much about it ..."

"Steve, you're going to have to talk it out with someone. Do you think you could maybe bring yourself to even tell ME about it, huh? ... Buddy boy?"

Steve's headache worsened considerably and he felt the waves of nausea wash over him again as he felt more hot bile rise in his throat. He visibly swayed where he sat as a bout of vertigo hit on top of everything else and for the first time Mike noticed the pained expression that crossed Steve's face and lingered, and the green hue that now invaded the alarming pallor.

"Steve? STEVE! What's the matter?"

Swallowing hard, Steve spoke with difficulty.

"I'll tell you about it Mike ... I promise but ... but just not now ... I've ... I've got a really bad headache ..."

The green tinge, the unsteadiness, the bad headache and the sudden realization that Steve had been mostly trying to block the light from the florescent lights above from his eyes while he had been speaking to him, suddenly sent familiar alarm bells ringing in Mike's head. Reaching across he purposefully turned Steve to face him, despite Steve's weak protest.

"No, Mike DON'T!"

He lowered Steve's hand and gasped in shock at the red rimmed, sore looking eyes and the sickly pallor of the young man in front of him.

"DEAR GOD! Steve you look awful. That's not just a headache, is it? That's a full blown migraine!"

Steve's eyes opened sharply in surprise at Mike's words but he closed them again as quick as the glaring light stung them mercilessly. _How in God's name did he know THAT? He had never told anyone he suffered on occasion from the dreaded, awful migraines and as far as he was aware that wasn't in his Personnel file either._ Still taken aback by Mike's uncanny ability to know everything, he stammered awkwardly.

"How? ... How the hell did you know that? I've never told you I suffered from migraines sometimes. And as far as I'm aware it's not in my Personnel file either ... What are you? Psychic or something?"

That question made Mike laugh and he answered in a jovial manner.

"No ... No I'm not psychic. Helen, my ah ... late wife used to suffer from them. I just recognized the symptoms that's all. She used to have special prescription pills for them. Do you have some?"

Steve groaned.

"They're ... up in my desk ..."

Mike let go of Steve and turned to stand.

"Ok, stay here and I'll go get them for you and be right back."

But Steve's hand shot out and stopped him.

"NO! I have some at home. Can you just ... drive me home please Mike. I'll take some then ... I ... I just want to go home. PLEASE? "

Mike wanted to protest that he needed his pills sooner than that, from how bad the pain seemed to be, but there was something so desperate about Steve's plea that Mike decided to go along with Steve's wishes instead. He remembered the young man's rant from earlier about how no-one was listening to what HE wanted and needed and decided that this would at least hopefully make him feel listened to if nothing else.

"Ok, I don't necessarily agree but ok. Let's get your clean shirt on first before you catch your death and then we'll get you home. Are you feeling sick?"

Steve was tempted to give his usual answer of "I'm fine" but decided against it under the circumstances. Instead as the pain peaked and made him groan he answered quickly instead.

"A little ... but it should be ok. I don't think there's anything in my stomach left to be sick with."

The words had left his lips before he realized what he had given away and he shivered as Mike rounded on him and asked in concern.

"That means you've been sick already today! You have, haven't you? How many times?

Flustering and cursing his stupidity he knew there was no point in lying so he nodded slowly.

"How many TIMES Steve?"

"Just once ... Only the sugared coffee came back though ..." he stated strongly, purposefully not mentioning the unproductive retching from earlier outside the Coroner's office.

He couldn't tell Mike he had gone to see the bodies of the Haskins family. He knew Mike wouldn't approve and there had to be at least one thing that Mike didn't already know about. As Mike grabbed the clean shirt and started helping him into it, he inwardly prayed that he could at last manage to maintain his dignity around the older man until at the very least he reached home and was medicated and lying down in that blissful sounding darkened room. This man despite slowly becoming a valued friend and ally was still his Boss and he was still on probation so to speak in the Homicide Department. He couldn't let anything jeopardize the position he had fought so hard to attain.

 **A/N : Also want to say thank you for all the kind comments received on my last chapter.. much appreciated.. :-)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Behind Him All The Way**

Chapter 10

With his shirt now on, Steve insisted on buttoning it himself despite the fact that his vision was slowly becoming compromised by the worsening migraine. Mike could see him struggling on one or two and frowned at the young man's stubbornness. Then noticing that the plaster was missing from the cut finger he spoke firmly.

"Hey what happened to your plaster?"

"It ah ... fell off in the shower. It's ok. It's not bothering me anymore."

Mike scowled again. _The reason his paper cut wasn't bothering him anymore was because as much as he was refusing to admit it, he was in too much agony with his migraine to notice it._ Deciding that he needed to get the young man home and fast, he turned towards Steve's locker and called back to Steve as he struggled to fasten the last button.

"Do you need to take anything home from your locker?"

"Just the bag of washing and my 38" ... and ..."

Steve's words caught in his throat and Mike noticed the emotional catch. He turned and eyed up Steve closely as he seemed to stare at his locker strangely. He grabbed the bag of washing and Steve's gun and very tentatively encouraged Steve a little.

"Ok, got those. Was there ah ... something else you wanted?"

Steve took an extra audible deep breath and then spoke a little easier.

"There's a black wallet on the top shelf. You can put that in the bag too but ... DON'T OPEN it!" he added a little too forcefully than he meant to and he saw Mike eye him suspiciously so he further added in a quieter tone " ... please."

Mike reached up and found the wallet and just as Steve requested, he placed it gently into the bag unopened and saw Steve's slight shudder as he did. His suspicions were raised about the strange wallet and he felt it definitely had something to do with Delaney in some shape or form but that was running off pure gut instinct alone and he knew now was not the time to question it.

"Ok, you ready to go?" he asked and Steve nodded, albeit very gingerly.

With the belongings retrieved, Mike closed the locker and locked it and grabbing Steve's jacket he watched as Steve rose way too fast onto his feet and swayed precariously, cursing under his breath as the nausea and dizziness came back with the swift movement and the searing pain right behind his eyes. Mike grabbed his arm and threw the other hand around his waist to steady him and watched him anxiously as the young man struggled for a minute or two to regain his equilibrium and his composure.

"Whoa! Easy now hotshot. That's getting worse isn't it? Steve ... maybe we should get your pills first, huh?"

"NO! No, it's ok. I just stood up too fast that's all. I'll be ok until I get home." Steve protested but he was struggling to keep his sore eyes open against the light that felt like it was now burning into his sore eyelids and he rubbed at them again furiously as a result.

Remembering how the brightness and the sunshine used to affect his late wife's migraines, Mike instructed firmly.

"Hey, hey don't rub them. You're only going to make then even sorer. Have you got any sunglasses?"

"Yeah, they're in my jacket pocket."

Mike found them and handed them to Steve.

"Here put those on. They should help."

Steve managed a grateful smile as he put the sunglasses on and the darker hue helped a great deal.

"Better?"

"Yeah much."

As they started to walk from the locker rooms, Steve felt Mike's hand still around his waist and stopped momentarily and half chuckled.

"Mike? You don't have to carry me to the car. It's my head that's sore ... Not my feet ... I CAN walk Mike. "

Mike smiled but didn't let go just yet.

"Are you sure about that? Only you don't feel too steady, you know?"

"Yeah, I'm sure but thanks for the concern ..."

Mike smiled wider and then let go.

"Ok hotshot. After you ..." Mike teased, gesturing for him to go ahead but keeping at a close distance all the same just in case he was needed.

The journey down to the car was eventful and Mike was rapidly tiring of the young man's innate stubbornness. He had insisted on using the back stairs instead of the elevator, despite Mike's protests and while he wouldn't admit it , Mike knew it was so he wouldn't meet anyone on the way down. The stairs proved much slower as each step sent a shock-wave through Steve's brain and on at least ten separate occasions Mike had made a grab for Steve again as he had wobbled precariously, but each time once he had recovered, he quickly brushed off Mike's guiding hand and continued down the stairs at his own somewhat subdued speed. By the time they reached the car, the young man was definitely the worst for wear and Mike felt he himself had aged a little from the experience. Steve was unnaturally quiet and there was a thin film of sweat coating his brow line. Sitting him into the passenger side and trying not to be overly concerned by the loud groan that left Steve's lips as he did, he raced around to the driver's side and quickly drove as fast as he could to Union Street. For the journey, Steve lay with his head against the back of the seat, moaning every now and then and the hand that curled around his stomach on and off worried the older man even more.

"Steve, if you feel you're going to throw up, please tell me so I can pull over, ok?"

Steve merely nodded and moaned again and Mike felt his annoyance spill over as he ranted loudly in frustration

"You know, I've met some stubborn people in my time but YOU! You take the biscuit. I should have insisted you take your pills back at the office. Look at the state you're in now! ... AND we should have taken the elevator."

Steve's groans became louder as he covered his ears and pleaded quietly.

"Mike please don't yell ... And can you save the lectures for later please? ... I'd really appreciate it."

Mike snorted but quietened all the same as he continued to throw furtive, concerned glances over at the young man every now and then as he drove. The boy looked like hell on earth and behind the dark sunglasses, he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not.

Pulling up outside Steve's apartment, he reached over and alerted his passenger.

"Ok Steve. We're here. Come on ... let's get you inside."

This time Steve never protested Mike's firm grip around his waist as he helped him up the stone and then metal steps to his apartment, the agonizing pain such that he felt he no longer controlled his legs and the direction they took. Reaching the door stoop, Mike rummaged in the young man's jacket pocket and produced the keys before opening the door and letting them in. As they stepped over the threshold, Mike couldn't resist a playful comment.

"So I finally get to see inside your Bachelor pad, huh Buddy boy?"

Up to this Mike had merely called for the young man every morning, knocking and then going back down to wait in the car for Steve's prompt arrival but Steve didn't seem as excited by the prospect, slurring now as the pain became so much that even the sound of his own voice seemed to vibrate painfully through his throbbing brain.

"Just don't look around too much. I ah ... I haven't had time to clean up lately ..."

Mike laughed as he saw the state of the living room as he passed by the open door.

"I can see that. So ah ... where's your bedroom?"

"Last door on the left ... " Steve slurred again as he wobbled for the umpteenth time and this time struggling a little, Mike grabbed Steve's arm and draped it around his shoulders and practically hauled Steve towards the room and over to the bed, his sunglasses falling off as they reached it.

Putting him down as gently as his aching back would allow he watched as Steve practically crawled up towards the pillows and buried his head under one to block out the glaring sunlight that filtered through the window, that he felt was slowly killing him from the inside out. Mike stretched out a crick in his neck and then having picked up the sunglasses off the floor where they had fallen and placing them on the bedside locker, he quickly crossed to the window to pull the heavy curtains across, darkening the room almost immediately. Unsure of his way around Steve's bedroom, Mike stubbed his knee and toe more than once as he stumbled his way back across to the bed and to his prone and suffering young partner.

"Steve? Steve you can take the pillow off your face now. It's dark ok? Where are your pills?"

"Bathroom cabinet. Top right ... " came the pained reply as the pillow was slowly removed and more groans followed.

Mike rushed to the door and then called back in embarrassment.

"Ah ... Where's your bathroom?"

"Next door up ... "

Mike raced out and opened the door beside Steve's bedroom. The small bathroom had no window and so it was dark inside. Flipping on the light switch, the bathroom exhaust vent came to life and Mike stood still and gasped as he saw the interior. There were at least six wet towels hung in various places, the last one still lying on the bathroom floor where it had been hastily discarded. A pile of dirty clothes sat in one corner but there was a separate smaller pile beside it distinctly bloodstained. The condensation still mildly clung in the air as Mike wondered just how many showers Steve had taken over the last three days. Discarding the thought for now as the migraine pills took priority again, Mike opened the cabinet above the sink and found them quite easily. He then came out and looked for Steve's kitchen.

Having found the hall closet on his first attempt, he found the small kitchenette on his second and another involuntary gasp escaped as he saw the untidy state of the kitchen. Dishes were strewn in the sink and whatever had been consumed on them looked several days old. Wrinkling his nose at the sight and distinct unpleasant odor emanating from them he then hastily set about opening the upper presses in quick succession until he found a glass and then he turned and started to fill it with water from the sink. A hurried movement past the kitchen doorway out of the corner of his eye drew his attention as he did and he set the glass and the pill bottle down momentarily on the draining board to go and investigate. A quick glance into the bedroom saw the bed empty but then he heard the violent, stomach churning retches coming from the small bathroom and hurried there instead. The door had been left open in Steve's haste and he now found his partner huddled over the toilet bowl, heaving painfully, his hands holding his head as each retch tortured him mercilessly.

"Oh God Steve! " Mike exclaimed hurrying forward to kneel behind the young man and rub his back. "Ok now. Take it easy. Get rid of it " Mike encouraged as very little returned.

When the heaving finished, Steve fell back drained and Mike caught him against him, as Steve's head lolled back to rest against the older man's upper chest, his breathing heavy and his stomach desperately trying to settle. They stayed that way in silence for several minutes as Steve recovered a little and as if realizing all of a sudden just what he was lying against he startled and went to sit up.

"Oh God! ... Sorry Mike ..."

Mike however pulled him back and chuckled softly.

"That's ok. It's not the first time I've been used as a pillow. This brings back all the times my Jeannie was sick as a kid and I'd sit on the bathroom floor with her just like this. Helen too sometimes. Especially when she was pregnant with Jeannie. I swear I never saw a worse case of morning sickness before and then she was very sick after they discovered the can ... "

Mike's voice trailed off and even suffering as he was Steve noticed that he couldn't even bring himself to name the illness that took his wife so cruelly from him. His current headache paled in comparison but before he could say anything to sympathize, Mike spoke again and lightened the tension with humor.

"Of course I was a lot younger then and my knees weren't as stiff." he added smiling.

Steve started to chuckle and Mike inclined his head to see what was so funny.

"What? What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking Thank God Norm can't see us now ..." Steve answered, chuckling louder but stopping as it only hurt his head to laugh too much.

Mike laughed then too at that statement.

"Yeah ... He'd get plenty of mileage out of this one, huh? You think you're ok enough for us to try and get you back to bed now? Only I'm not quite sure how much longer I can stay like this."

As both men smiled, it was a definite case of them both helping each other up off the bathroom floor and soon Steve was back lying down in the darkened room, the deep sigh of relief audible as Steve's head once more hit the soft pillow. Fetching the pills and the water, Mike watched as Steve took them and lay back down quietly. Remembering another thing that used to help Helen when she had a migraine, Mike disappeared back to the kitchen and finding a cloth he soaked it in cold water from the faucet and wringing it out he returned to lay it across Steve's brow. Steve gasped loudly at the relief it brought and Mike smiled as he heard the following appreciative comment.

"Oooh! That's feels good. Thanks Mike. Listen ... You don't have to hang around. I'll be ok now in a while ... once I sleep for a bit and the pills kick in. Thanks for ... bringing me home. I'll ... I'll call ... you later ..."

Steve's speech broke and his voice faded out as his breathing slowed up and the young man seemed to find comfort in the silence and the darkened, familiar surroundings. Mike sat on the edge of the bed and waited for several minutes quietly until he felt Steve had finally fallen asleep with the aid of the strong pills. Then he leaned over the sleeping young man and called quietly just to check.

"Steve? ... Steve?"

When no reply came, Mike stood up quietly and grabbing the comforter from the end of the bed he pulled it up over his sleeping partner, then turned and left the room. Pulling over the door slightly but leaving it ajar he then headed down the hall towards the front door. He went to open it but hesitated, looking back down the hall at the partially closed door and suddenly felt bad leaving the young man in his current condition. What if he woke with a nightmare? Or if he woke feeling Haskins' blood again on his face and tried to go shower again before he was steady enough? There were too many doubts and fears crowding around Mike's brain so dropping his hand away from the door handle he started removing his coat, hat and jacket instead. Draping them over the chair in the hall and placing his beloved fedora down on the hall table, he picked up Steve's phone and made a quick, brief, informative phone call to Bill Tanner before heading for the kitchen as he started rolling up his shirt sleeves.

It was just gone three o'clock, barely an hour later, as Mike was percolating a fresh pot of coffee, after having cleaned the offending dishes in Steve's sink, that he heard a strained voice coming from Steve's bedroom. Rushing in, he found Steve muttering in his sleep in a troubled fashion.

"No ... No, don't do it ... Please? No ... NO! ... DON'T!"

His head was moving from side to side and his voice sounded distressed, gradually getting louder as Mike determinedly shook him to rouse him.

"Steve? ... STEVE? Wake up ... WAKE UP!"

At the last shake and yell, Steve shot bolt upright and yelled heartwrenchingly, his breaths coming in heaves as he then started scraping his hands across his face in a horrified fashion.

"STEVE! It's Mike! It's ok Steve? You were just DREAMING." Mike continued to cajole as the young man refused to settle, still wiping at his face Mike assumed, to try and remove the invisible blood that he still felt on it.

Steve's drowsy, drug glazed and still red, sore looking eyes focused briefly on Mike and his hands stopped moving momentarily as he seemed to be trying to process Mike's words but the drugs still had a hold and the flashback must have seemed too real to allow Mike's words to provide any sufficient reassurance. In a panicked tone, Steve's voice slurred alarmingly as he resumed the frantic scrubbing movement along his jawline and up the side of his face.

"Mike ... Get it off me ... Please, get it OFF ME!"

Mike grabbed Steve's two wrists and pulled them away from his face, effectively restraining him, afraid he might tear his own skin with the ferocity with which he was rubbing and yelled even louder.

"STEVE! LISTEN TO ME. There's NOTHING on your face? Do you hear me? You're OK! There's NOTHING there. You're at home and you're SAFE and I'm right here with you."

Steve looked down at his hands that Mike was still holding tightly and then back up at Mike's face but as his eyes rolled a little as the drugs threatened to pull him back to sleep, Steve visibly fought the feeling, his eyes widening and his voice filling with heart rending anguish at the same time.

"I ... I couldn't stop them Mike ... I ... I couldn't ... stop ... them ... I failed them ... I failed them both ..."

Mike watched anxiously as Steve's eyes filled with tears and he started to shake violently. He felt his own emotions fray as he sat and watched the young man helplessly, suffering from the strain and the guilt, the drugs for once not allowing him his usual comfort of raising his invisible protective shield and therefore leaving him vulnerable and open. As a reflex, Mike let go of Steve's wrists and reaching for the back of Steve's neck he pulled Steve's head forward so that the young man's forehead rested against his shoulder, while his other hand patted Steve's back soothingly, as loud sobs broke from the young man and Mike tried to comfort him as best he could.

"Shush now Steve ... Shush ... I know Buddy Boy but you did all you could ... You have to rest now. Everything's going to be fine. We'll talk about it later but right now you've got to rest. Shush ... Rest now ..."

He continued speaking softly and calmly until Steve's sobs finally died down and gradually Steve's head slumped palpably against his shoulder, his breathing taking a bit longer to return to its normal pattern. When he felt Steve had finally succumbed to the drugs again he very gently laid Steve back down and covered him up once more. His own hand went to his mouth as he noticed for the first time that it was trembling too. He feared for the young man who had started to become a worthy friend and partner and almost like the son he had never been blessed with ... until now. He stayed watching the young man's chest rise and fall until he was sure no trace of anguish or nightmare remained before finally picking himself up and going to fetch himself a badly needed cup of coffee to steady his nerves. It looked like it was going to be a long afternoon ahead.

 **A/N: Just a short fill in chapter today I'm afraid ... Real Life doesn't allow time for any more today ... Sorry! :-(**


	11. Chapter 11

**Behind Him All The Way**

Chapter 11

Not one to just sit around idly and do nothing constructive, Mike busied himself for the next couple of hours tidying up Steve's apartment. In doing so, using his highly tuned detective skills, he felt he had gleaned quite a lot about his new, young partner. Fixing up the sitting room, he had noticed the blanket strewn haphazardly on the couch, with a pair of shoes and a jacket discarded nearby and assumed that on occasion when Steve was extra tired coming from work, he merely collapsed on the couch and slept where he landed and the couple of empty beer bottles and the ashtray full of empty sunflower seed shells on the coffee table told him what usual snack he tended to consume of an evening. The sunflower seed obsession of Steve's was a strange one to Mike and at times a source of annoyance due to the at times carelessly discarded shells but he had gotten used to seeing him eating them and always marveled at how the young man seemed to always have an endless supply of them in his jacket pockets.

Having fixed up the sitting room he had moved on to the kitchen and opened Steve's refrigerator and some presses. Shaking his head incredulously, he frowned at the fact that there was practically no food to speak of in Steve's apartment. The fridge held about eight beer bottles, a carton of orange juice, a rancid looking carton of milk, a rather dubious looking piece of cheese that Mike thought better of unwrapping, an unopened bottle of wine, and a couple of eggs remaining in a carton. There was a fruit bowl that held three rather sorry looking apples on the counter and the search of his presses yielded a bag of sugar, some tea, an oversupply of coffee, a packet of brown rice, a box of cereal and about a month's supply of sunflower seeds. _Well that explained his never-ending supply of THEM but not what he ate on a regular basis. No wonder the boy hadn't a pick on him._ That mystery was solved as a quick look in Steve's trash bin saw empty cardboard pizza boxes and Chinese take away cartons, however whatever contents they still held also appeared to be several days old which only further confirmed his suspicions that the young man hadn't eaten much since the shooting.

Mike's initial ten minute checks in on Steve finally lengthened to half hourly as the young man seemed to be more settled after the earlier incident. Running out of things to do he decided to put the bloodstained clothes that were still lying on the bathroom floor soaking in the tub. When he went in and bent down to pick them up, he swallowed hard as he noticed that the majority of the by now dried in blood stains were on the top half of Steve's shirt with just a few splatters further down. The tie was also heavily stained but the table in the booth had saved the trousers more or less except for one section where it looked like Steve had wiped his bloodied hands against the side of them at some point. He remembered in that moment how horrified and traumatized Steve had seemed after the shooting. He had practically had to drag him out of the booth away from the horrific scene and he had then walked him very unsteadily outside. He had felt very shaky and had gone unnaturally quiet and pale and Mike had been glad of the open ambulance just outside the cafe door to put him sitting down on. He had spoken to him several times but Steve hadn't seemed to be even listening, as the shock had taken a firm hold. He had been trembling and his hands had felt alarmingly ice cold and Mike had found a blanket nearby that he was then able to drape around him. At that time he hadn't seemed to even be aware of the blood covering his face and Mike had removed as much of it as he could with his handkerchief without Steve even reacting. It had taken at least a half an hour for his partner to come around and become more lucid and communicative again and the medics had been the ones to suggest that Steve should go home and rest. As he got the clothes soaking in the bath tub, he decided to go check in on the young man again.

Steve started to wake and slowly opened his eyes, allowing his eyes to adjust to his darkened surroundings. _He was home in his bedroom._ That fact alone brought some comfort but then he remembered how he had gotten home. Mike had brought him and as more memories came back slowly he remembered the embarrassing throwing up incident and cringed a little inside. _So much for maintaining his dignity around Mike!_ His head still felt very sore to the touch and it felt as if it was made of lead but the awful searing pain had eased considerably. He knew from bitter, past experience however that this was the aftermath of the migraine. _The worst was over._ However the aftermath could be quite unpleasant too. The heavy headedness, the soreness and the unsteadiness could last for hours after the migraine had eased and the nausea could linger too at times. Right now he didn't feel sick and just hoped that with rest and careful movements he could avoid a repeat performance of earlier.

His thoughts went to Mike. He wondered at first if he had gone home as he had suggested but then a blurry memory resurfaced from nowhere. A very uncomfortable memory. He had had the nightmare again! OH GOD! Mike had been there. How much had he witnessed? He had vague memories of being upset and cringed as he thought of Mike seeing him like that. Maybe he had imagined it although it seemed fairly real in his mind. NO ... it HAD happened. He had broken down in front of Mike! It was the worst thing that could have happened. How could he even look the older man in the eye after that? _Way to go Steve! What a way to make a lasting impression._

With that thought now torturing him, he heard footsteps outside in the hall and quickly turned over on his side facing away from the doorway as he heard the door creak open and heard someone enter the bedroom. Regretting the sudden move slightly as his sore head protested, he shut his eyes and hoped that if he pretended to be asleep that maybe Mike would leave him be. He wasn't ready to face the older man just yet. However seeing Steve in a different position than the last time he had checked in on him, Mike decided to see if he was awake. Moving closer to the bed, Mike called out softly.

"Steve? ... Steve are you awake?"

Steve stayed perfectly still, his eyes still closed and tried to keep his breathing low and even but he was having trouble getting his slightly ragged breathing to obey. Hopefully Mike wouldn't notice. Mike heard no reply so he walked quietly around the bed to get a better look at Steve. In the dark room, he could just about make out Steve's face and his eyes were closed but there was something off about the whole thing. He smiled broadly as he sussed out what it was before slowly sinking down onto the edge of the bed and reaching down to pat the one hand Steve had over the covers.

"You can stop pretending now Buddy boy. I know you're not asleep. Come on. Look at me."

Steve exhaled loudly before slowly opening his eyes and frowning at the older man.

"How the hell did you know I was pretending to be asleep?"

Mike laughed and wagged a finger at the young man in the bed.

"I told you didn't I? There's not much you can get past me so you had better stop trying hotshot. But to answer your question, your breathing gave you away. It was way too ragged for someone who was fast asleep. Nice try though."

Steve was suddenly glad of the dark to hide his blushes and spoke with a certain amount of awe and amazement in his voice.

"You are something else, you know that? My Grandfather fell for that trick every time." he added nostalgically.

"AH! But I'm not your Grandfather, now am I? How's the head?"

Glad of the change of conversation, Steve mumbled drowsily.

"It's a lot better. Just still a bit sore and fragile that's all. Sort of like a hangover without the fun beforehand.. It usually is for a while after a really bad one like that ..."

Mike nodded and then decided to keep the conversation light and easy for the time being.

"Yeah... Helen used to suffer like that too for a while after she had one. So tell me ... how long have you been suffering from migraines Buddy boy?"

Steve turned back over on his back more gingerly this time and settled back against the pillows before answering.

"I used to suffer from them a lot as a teenager. The ah ... Doctor said they were triggered by stress ..."

Mike studied Steve as best as he could from the light streaming in through the doorway and disliked the uneasy expression on his partner's face.

"I ah ... haven't had any for a couple of years now ... until today."

Mike shrugged his shoulders and spoke sympathetically.

"Well if they're triggered by stress, then you've certainly been under enough of that these last few days to cause one. Mind you not ... eating and sleeping can't have helped either, huh?"

Steve frowned and looked sheepishly at Mike again.

"Mike don't start on that again please. I just haven't had much of an appetite lately."

Mike wanted to lecture him on the importance of eating and sleeping and keeping up his strength but he felt the young man might react badly to it so clearing his throat, he asked the main question that was bothering him instead

"Ok, ok but ... tell me this Steve. Why were you pretending to be asleep just now, huh?"

Steve sighed heavily and took a few seconds to answer.

"I ah ... I guess I ... didn't feel up to ah ... facing you just yet."

Mike was taken slightly aback by the statement and was also worried by the amount of despair his answer audibly held.

"What? Are you talking about the bathroom incident before you went to sleep? Steve, I told you. That wasn't exactly your fault and it wasn't the first time I've helped someone who was throwing up. You don't have to be embarrassed by that. Alright?"

Steve went very quiet and Mike squinted to see if he could figure out what was causing such a drastic reaction, when he heard Steve speak again awkwardly.

"I wasn't talking about that ... Although that WAS bad enough. I was talking about ... the nightmare ..."

Mike watched Steve's head drop onto his chest, purposefully averting his eyes from the older man despite the fact that the darkened room provided sufficient cover anyway.

Mike straightened up where he sat and let out a deep sigh.

"OH! ... I see ... To be honest I ... well I was kind of hoping you wouldn't remember that part ... You were very drowsy at the time from those pills."

"Well it IS kind of fuzzy but the bits I remember are ... kind of embarrassing to say the least ... I'm sorry Mike ... That's the reason you should have gone home when I asked you to ..."

That answer only served to infuriate Mike and it showed in his irritated sounding reply.

"Why? So you could suffer on your own like you've been doing these past few days? So you could not eat or sleep and pretend you're ok when you're clearly not? Or so you could shower twenty times to get that invisible blood of your face and think dark thoughts about how you couldn't help them both without anyone witnessing it? Because I have news for you Buddy boy. That's what you've BEEN doing these last few days and it hasn't helped you, has it? WELL? HAS IT?"

Steve never answered but he stared unnervingly at Mike and from the light from the door, Mike was sure he saw moisture glistening in the young man's eyes. Realizing that he had perhaps overstated the obvious, perhaps unnecessarily, he calmed down and taking a deep breath, he clasped Steve's arm once more and spoke more compassionately.

"Look Steve. You can't get through this on your own. I know you think you can but ... well you just CAN'T. And what's more you don't HAVE to go through it alone. People are here to help you. Willing to. But you have to let them. You have to talk it out with someone Buddy boy and if you get upset in the process then well ... then that's what has to happen. I know you're embarrassed about getting upset earlier and you're probably regretting it ever happened but I'M NOT. It's probably the first time you've managed to release some of that angst you've been carrying around with you and keeping to yourself for far too long."

Mike watched carefully in case of an adverse reaction from the young man to his words but seeing Steve still listening quietly, he continued with a renewed determination to get through to him somehow.

"Steve ... Look I know we've only been partners now for just over six months but I pride myself on being able to read people and well ... it seems to me Steve that you set very high standards for yourself and while that's very admirable and in career terms it's been very successful for you, the downside seems to be that you can't seem to allow yourself to be simply human. Because at the end of the day, underneath that badge and the gun and the vows we make to serve and protect, that's what we are. Human. Plain and simple and as humans we try our best but sometimes ... well sometimes we have to accept that our very best isn't always good enough. Remember what I told you that night on Baker's beach? We can't always save them all Buddy boy but what's important is that we continue to do everything we can to try to. "

Steve nodded this time dolefully but then he spoke shakily.

"But how do we accept it Mike when ... when people die because we failed?"

Steve felt Mike squeeze his arm and respond with a smile on his face.

"Steve, you're forgetting one very important thing. YOU didn't pull those triggers! THEY did. Nobody made them do it. They CHOSE to. You tried to stop them and well they simply weren't going to be stopped so you have to find a way to carry on, safe in the knowledge that you did all you could do. Simple as that. Ok?"

Steve nodded again but Mike heard his breathing labor a little in the dark.

"Ok ... You're right. It's not exactly working my way so ... let's give your way a try ..."

Mike's heart swelled with pride at Steve's words and he slapped the bed triumphantly.

"Good man! You know it makes sense. Ok, well first things first, you need to eat something ... and to be honest I'm a little on the hungry side myself." Mike spoke, rubbing his own stomach as he did.

"Aw Mike ... I'm not sure if I'm ready to eat anything just yet ..." Steve protested but Mike was not taking no for an answer.

"Ah, Ah! Now you said that you were going to try my way right? And food is at the top of that list. Now I've had a quick look and there doesn't seem to be any proper food in this whole apartment. Don't you ever eat here?"

Steve flustered a little.

"No, not really ... Well I'm not here much so apart from some cereal for breakfast when I have time and takeaways in the evening, I don't bother with keeping too much in. But I ah ... meant to get a few essential things in ... I ... I just never got around to it ... Sorry ..."

Mike smiled to himself as essential things to Steve seemed to have a different connotation to him ... Beer, coffee and sunflower seeds seemed to be high on Steve's priority list. Brushing that thought off quickly, Mike laid out their evening plans.

"Ok so ... it looks like a trip to the store is on the cards. Where's your nearest food store?"

"There's one just a block away that I use. It's a family run one. Hannon's. It's small but it has the main things we need."

"Great. Ok, here's what we're going to do. I want you to stay there and try to rest while I go to the store and get us some supplies. I won't be long and when I get back I'm going to rustle us up something to eat and after that if you're feeling up to it ... I want you to try and tell me about Delaney. What do you think?"

"Ok ... But Mike ..."

"Don't worry! I'll just rustle us up something light. It won't be a three course meal, ok?"

That statement seemed to settle Steve a lot and he again nodded appreciatively.

Mike patted Steve's arm one more time and then stood up.

"Ok, will you be ok while I'm out? "

"Yeah, I'll be ok. But take some money from my jacket pocket for the groceries will ya?"

Reaching the doorway and smiling back, Mike noticed how tired and fragile Steve looked all of a sudden in the pale light steaming in and spoke softly.

"Don't be silly. What's a few groceries between friends? But Steve ... try to sleep while I'm gone, will you? You look done in. And stay put, you hear? No bailing on me. Should I be worried?"

Steve half chuckled and spoke reassuringly.

"Hey I'm a captive audience. I mean I'm lying here in a darkened room, remember? I'm not likely to go outside in that bright sunshine in my current condition, now am I? "

Mike chuckled back.

"You've got a valid point there. Ok, I won't be long. You want anything in particular? Some ah ... sunflower seeds maybe?" Mike added teasingly, knowing he wouldn't be needing any of those for quite some time by what he found.

"No, I think there's still some of those in the press thanks."

Mike's grin widened.

"Ok ... Get some rest while I'm out. and THAT'S an order Inspector! " he added playfully before shaking his head and closing the door over behind him.

Steve lay back against the pillows and heard Mike in the hallway. Then he heard the front door open and close and then heard the engine of Mike's car start up a minute later and listened to the sound of it as it drove away. He sighed heavily as he heard the last sound of Mike's car fade away into the distance and reveled momentarily in the sudden fact that he was alone again for even a short time. While he appreciated Mike's concern and help and liked having Mike for company, he felt he had to be more on his guard around him and here in the sanctuary of his apartment he liked the freedom of just doing what he wanted without judgment or comment. He could just be himself and he didn't have to pretend or hide anything. He had spent the greater part of his life alone and he had perhaps got too settled in his ways. Here was where he could be himself and didn't have to try to please anyone else or try to be accepted. He could be at peace or moody and angry if he needed to be without consequence.

Steve felt suddenly very tired, tired beyond belief but it was a weariness not fully borne from lack of sleep although that did play a rather large part but rather a weariness that came from always trying to prove himself worthy. He felt he had been doing it all his life from an early age. And now he felt as if he was burning himself out rapidly as a result. Maybe Mike was right. Maybe he did need to give himself a break once in a while and allow himself to fail once in a while without self recrimination. _No-one is perfect, right? We all fail sometimes._

He began to wonder if Mike had ever failed at anything. Since becoming his partner, Steve had placed Mike on a bit of a pedestal and looked up to the older man. The man was a great role model and he felt he was learning so much under his tutelage. His skills in the Interview room were a treasure to behold and he could control and secure a crime scene like no other. He was at times a fount of wisdom and his famous Stone gut instinct was very surprisingly, rarely wrong. He had an uncanny ability to know everything and that particular skill was the only one Steve regretted him having as it was the one that lately seemed to catch him out at every twist and turn. It was almost impossible to hide anything from the older man and Steve found himself almost feeling sorry for Jeannie, purely in that regard and that regard only. Apart from that it thought it must be pretty neat to have a father like Mike Stone. Always full of good advice and someone who always had your back, no matter what. Steve had only known two people like that in his relatively short life and the last one had ended up letting him down very badly.

As his thoughts returned full circle from Mike to Delaney, Steve decided it was time to stop thinking and so tried to turn over and go back to sleep but sleep was proving elusive. Every time he closed his eyes, tortured images and blood covered disfigured bodies presented themselves to him mercilessly so after tossing and turning several times, Steve threw the comforter off himself and throwing his legs over the side of the bed in frustration, he attempted to stand.

A wave of dizziness made him sit again quickly as his head throbbed in tune to his heartbeat and he breathed through it purposefully with eyes tightly closed until it passed. Then much more carefully this time he stood and holding the wall he made his way gingerly out to the hall. His legs felt very wobbly and his mouth felt bone dry so thinking a drink of water might help, he moved ever so slowly towards the kitchen. On entering he stopped briefly as he surveyed the clean and tidy surroundings with half open eyes and shook his head incredulously at Mike's handiwork. He hadn't put his partner down as a tidy upper. His grin faded fast though as an embarrassed flush replaced it as he suddenly remembered the mess he had left in the sink and he took in the fact that Mike had taken on the rather unpleasant task of dealing with it and made a mental note to clear his dishes away more efficiently in the future. Then a cold chill washed over him and made him shudder where he stood. If Mike had tidied in here then maybe he had tidied the other rooms too!

A little faster than he knew he should, he shuffled uneasily towards the living room door and opened it. His worst fears were confirmed as he saw the neat and tidy living room and he panicked as he tried to remember what he had left lying about. Several empty beer bottles. Oh God! What had Mike thought? He always allowed himself a beer before bedtime as a way of winding down after work but what had been on the coffee table constituted three evenings worth. He hoped he hadn't assumed that he had consumed them all at one sitting ... that wouldn't look good. He was going to have to explain that one at some stage to the older man. His heart rate had started to race and was compounding the dizziness and the painful throbbing in his brain. Then he remembered the bloodied clothes on the bathroom floor and the numerous wet towels hanging up in there. Mike had been too busy dealing with his bout of sickness earlier to take any notice of them but what if he had decided to tidy up in there too while he had slept!

Feeling increasingly more nauseated, he now stumbled back down the hall to the bathroom and hesitated before pushing down the door handle. It felt so strange to him for someone to have been through his apartment and to have tidied things up. He had seen Mike in action at crime scenes and he knew how well he read victims by where and how they lived. How had he judged him? Shaking that unnerving thought out of his head, he plucked up enough courage to open the door and stumbling inside he flipped the light switch and the first thing he saw were the bloodied clothes soaking in the bath tub. The sight froze him where he stood and his legs buckled from under him as he fell clumsily to the tiled floor with the shock of seeing them in their new resting place. The sudden descent caused his head to pulsate painfully and his stomach to churn fiercely. He soon found he couldn't drag his eyes off the offending articles as thin ribbons of red swirled from the blood stained clothes into the surrounding water and brought back the visions from three days ago. That was Haskins' blood now swirling around his tub and that stark realization caused a violent reaction as he scrambled across to the toilet once more and began to dry heave as he felt the blood on his face again and found himself shaking violently and he was suddenly glad no-one was there to witness his latest pathetic episode.


	12. Chapter 12

**Behind Him All The Way**

 **A/N: Thank you to all those still reading and following this story and for all the wonderful comments and feedback it has received so far. To my guest reviewer Anne Educator ( Clever pseudonym!) I am sorry you feel that Mike bullies Steve sometimes in my stories but I personally don't feel I write Mike in a bullying way as you feel I do sometimes and can assure you that it is never my intention for that to come across when writing the characters. I do however appreciate you taking the time to leave your feedback and hope that I have fully addressed your concerns in this author's note.**

Chapter 12

Steve wasn't sure how long the retching lasted but it seemed to last for quite some time. Try as he did to stop it, it persisted mercilessly and now as it finally eased up, his throat was sore and his diaphragm ached from the agonizing episode, which once more had yielded nothing much from his already empty stomach. He felt weak and sore so he pushed himself back to sit against the wall of the bathroom and allowed himself the minutes he needed to recover his strength and his composure. From his new position, he could no longer see the clothes or the bloodied water in the bath tub and for that fact alone he was extremely grateful.

The bathroom vent that had turned on automatically when he had switched on the light, now seemed louder than it ever was before as it whirred and vibrated through his sore head and he hadn't noticed before how glaring his bathroom bulb was before now either. He began to wish he had the energy to get up and switch the light back off to silence the noise it caused and plunge him back into the comforting darkness but he hadn't, so for now he had no other choice but to close his eyes to block out the brightness and suffer the noise as best he could. He had to be able to get himself back to bed before Mike returned. Again he lost track of how much time had passed as he sat on the cold tiles but then to his horror he heard the sound of a key in the lock of his front door. _Damn it! Mike was back. He couldn't let him see him like this again._

Forcing himself to move, he dragged himself across to the bathroom door and closed it hastily, hoping Mike hadn't heard it close and then reaching up he fumbled with the key in the lock until he heard the comforting click that meant for now his situation was protected. He stayed sprawled across the floor, with his head now leaning against the door as he heard the front door open and then close again. He heard the sound of keys being placed on the wooden hall table followed by a strange rustling that had to be Mike removing his jacket and then he heard footsteps passing right outside the door, casting a slim shadow under the frame as he passed. Steve almost held his breath as he tried to remain quiet as he heard Mike speaking in the hallway.

"Steve! I'M BACK. You OK?"

He heard Mike's footsteps fade and heard what sounded like Hannon's all too familiar, paper grocery bags being set down in the kitchen before he heard the sound of the footsteps return and he cringed as he then heard the unmistakable creak from his bedroom door. Right on cue he heard his name being shouted and the hurried footsteps came back while the same shadow from earlier now stopped right outside the bathroom door. The handle turned and on finding it locked, Mike's voice rang out once more, loud and panicked in its tone.

"STEVE? Steve, are you in there? Are you alright? STEVE?"

Pushing himself from the door, he knew he had to reply to tell Mike that he was alright but his breathing was still being hampered by his sore, aching diaphragm and he wasn't sure he could make his voice work properly either. Taking a deep breath he spoke as calmly as he could.

"Yeah, yeah I'm in here Mike ... I'm ok ... I'll be out in a minute. You ah ... find the store, ok?" he added, hoping Mike wouldn't hear the strain in his voice or the odd catch that broke his sentences.

He waited then quietly for Mike's answer but when it came he knew the older man hadn't been fooled. While the initial panic left the older man's voice, the concern remained present despite the fact that his voice softened considerably.

"Steve? Open the door please, will you? I want to see for myself that you're ok."

Steve blinked back the tears that threatened to fall as he heard Mike's persistence and knew he wasn't going to be allowed to wallow alone on the bathroom floor as he had hoped. He knew pleading hadn't worked with Mike so far today but right now that was all he had the energy left to do.

"Mike? Please ... I ... I just need to be alone for a few minutes ..."

But his hopes were further dashed as the firm voice persisted.

"Steve, open this door right this minute or you're going to leave me no other choice but to shoulder it in. For both our sakes and for the sake of my poor shoulder well ... I'd really appreciate it Buddy boy if you'd just open the lock. What do you say, huh? Please ... let me in, will you?"

Steve sighed heavily knowing when he was defeated and ran an unsteady hand through his clammy hair. Reaching up and gasping from the pain that radiated across his stomach, he slowly turned the key and unlocked the door before shifting himself uneasily back against the wall behind the door. The door didn't open immediately but Mike slowly turned the handle and pushed the door very carefully in before stepping into the bathroom just as slowly and looking around. Seeing his partner slumped against the wall behind the door, his pace quickened and he rushed in and got down on his haunches in front of the sickly looking young man who was looking down at the floor and just like before, averting his gaze from Mike purposefully.

"God Steve! What happened? Did you have another nightmare?"

Steve merely shook his head. Mike took another look around and saw the toilet lid up and looked back at Steve determinedly.

"Well, were you feeling sick again? Is that what brought you in here?"

Steve knew he had to tell the truth, however bad it looked or sounded. Mike would find him out anyway. He finally looked up at Mike and then gestured his head towards the bath tub with a shudder that caused Mike to grab the young man's arm in alarm. Looking behind him he saw the bloodied water and realized what had caused the young man's current condition. As guilt and regret flooded him, he gasped and spoke breathlessly.

"Oh my God Steve! That was MY fault. Steve I'm so sorry ... I was just trying to help out ... I never even thought about how you'd feel if you saw that ... "

Standing up suddenly, he grabbed the shower curtain and pulled it around to hide the offending sight and then returned to where Steve was sitting. Grabbing Steve's hand he felt the biting cold and felt him trembling under his touch.

"Have you been in here on this floor since I left?"

Steve nodded and spoke shakily, feeling so bad now that he seemed to no longer care what happened or what Mike saw from now on, feeling at this stage that there wasn't a lot he could do about it anyway.

"I ... I ah got up to get a drink of water. I saw you'd tidied the place and came in here and saw the ... I started dry heaving ... and I couldn't stop. Mike, my stomach is really sore now."

Mike's eyes held a mixture of guilt and sympathy. He felt foolish for leaving the bloodied clothes where Steve could see them. _Why hadn't he thought to pull the shower curtain across earlier?_ He felt even worse for leaving him now and needed to right what he felt he had done wrong.

"Steve, we need to get you back to bed. You're freezing on that floor. Your stomach should feel better when you're lying down again too. Do you think you can stand if I pull you up on your feet?"

Steve frowned and looked unsure.

"I don't know Mike. I just don't know. I feel really weak ..."

"Were you dry retching like that for long?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, a good while ..."

"Ok, well, let's just try ok? You can't stay down there."

Mike stood up and bending down he grabbed Steve around the waist and pulled him up off the floor but as soon as he was standing his legs buckled again and refused to hold him up. Mike anticipated the move though, seeing how pale and flaky his young partner looked and held him securely, once more like earlier, draping Steve's arm around his shoulders and keeping him upright.

"Steve, I know you're struggling but just try to move your feet for me until we get you back into your bed, can you?"

Steve nodded and made a renewed effort to walk however awkwardly alongside Mike as the older man struggled with him out of the bathroom and into the room next to it, suddenly glad that Steve's apartment was so compact. Reaching the darkened sanctuary of Steve's bedroom, Mike heard him sigh from the relief that only the dark could bring. Getting him to the bed, he eased him down onto it for the second time today and watched as Steve instinctively turned away from the older man, curling himself into a ball, his hand gripping his midsection in an alarming way.

Mike felt awful for being the cause of his partner's latest tortured bathroom visit and for a brief moment he wondered if indeed he was the right man to help his partner in his current situation. He had felt before his store trip that he had made some progress but now it seemed like he had only put the young man back to square one by not thinking out his earlier actions more carefully. As he had already admitted having flashbacks about the blood on his face, of course he would get agitated and distressed seeing the bloodied water in the tub. _How could I have been so stupid?_ Mike contemplated ringing Lenny for advice but first he had to help Steve with his new discomfort. Leaning over Steve, he placed a concerned hand on the young man's left shoulder.

"Steve, is your stomach cramping or is it just sore?"

"No ... Just sore ..."

Mike scowled again as he thought of how long Steve had been on that bathroom floor on his own, suffering without anyone there to help him.

"You've just over used the muscles Buddy boy. We need to get some heat on it. Do you own a hot water bottle?"

Steve moaned quietly and shook his head. A few seconds passed before his pained voice spoke again.

There's an ice pack ... in the freezer though ..."

Mike frowned.

"No, no that won't do. Besides ... you're chilled enough already. No, we need something warm to put against that stomach of yours. "

Steve groaned loudly again and seemed to curl up even more. Mike thought about Helen and then smiled as he remembered a trick she used to use whenever Jeannie had an earache as a child. Remembering what he had found in Steve's presses earlier he grinned and leaned over to question Steve again.

"Steve, do you have any cotton socks?"

Steve was sure he had misheard the question. Temporarily forgetting the pain in his midsection, he looked behind him blankly and asked in a shaky, confused voice.

"WHAT?"

"Socks Steve. Do you have any cotton ones? "

"Why the hell are you looking for socks? My feet aren't cold Mike."

Mike smiled at Steve's question but persisted regardless.

"Steve will you just answer me please?"

"Yeah ... Probably ... But why?"

"Never mind that. You'll find out soon enough. Where do you keep your socks?"

Steve kept staring at Mike incredulously and pointed to the end of his bed towards a chest of drawers.

"Top drawer ..."

Mike hurried to the chest of drawers and after pulling out several separate socks and squinting at them in the dim light, he chose one and heading for the doorway he studied it a little more. Steve turned back around and continued to stare at Mike and his very strange actions.

"Mike, WHAT are you DOING? "

"Just stay there and rest up and I'll be back in ten minutes.

Steve lifted his head off the pillow, his sore eyes following Mike back out into the hall, wondering what in God's name Mike wanted with one of his socks but his sore stomach protested the move so he sunk back down as he heard Mike across the hall moving around in the kitchen.

"MIKE? ..."

"JUST HOLD on Steve! I'll be back to you in a few minutes. Just take it easy."

Steve rubbed at his sore stomach and tried to listen instead to what Mike was up to. He heard presses being opened and what sounded like a packet being opened. A pouring sound but not liquid and then nothing much after that except Mike's footsteps moving around. Mike's strange and puzzling actions were at least keeping his mind off his anguish and discomfort and after ten minutes of trying to figure out what on earth he could be up to, Mike's hurried footsteps arrived back in the hall and he came hurrying into the bedroom carrying something in his hand.

"Here, this should help Buddy boy. We just need to put this on your stomach ..."

Mike leaned over and place something very warm across his midsection causing Steve to jump a little.

"Whoa! That's hot Mike. What is it?"

Mike's wide grin was even visible in the darkened room and he answered proudly.

"It's a makeshift heat pack Buddy boy."

Steve felt the heat pack and glanced back at Mike in amazement.

"Wait a minute ... You made a heat pack out of my sock?"

"Uh huh ... Pretty clever huh?"

Steve seemed to be speechless for several seconds before finding his voice again.

" How? ... I mean ... what did you fill it with?"

Again Mike grinned broadly.

"Rice. You had a packet in your press."

Steve couldn't resist a chuckle at Mike's ingenuity.

"So let me get this straight. You ah ... filled my sock with rice but ... how did you heat it?"

"I wrapped it in aluminum foil and put it your oven on low for a while."

"You baked my sock?" Steve said, half chuckling again in disbelief.

Mike swatted playfully at Steve's arm and responded half chuckling.

"No Wiseguy ... I didn't BAKE your sock. I HEATED it!"

"Well, wouldn't it go on fire?"

Mike shook his head.

"Not if you're careful and use pure cotton. Besides I was watching it closely and it was on a low heat. Is it helping?"

Steve felt the comforting relief the warmth from the pack against his aching diaphragm was providing and smiled in awe at the older man.

"Yeah ... yeah it is ... Man ... You are something else. Where did you get THAT idea from?"

Mike shrugged modestly but Steve could tell he was pleased with himself for managing to help him so ingeniously.

"Oh I'm afraid I can't take the credit for that. Jeannie used to suffer from bad earaches as a child and Helen used to make those to help her. Ear ache, stomach ache, I just felt if it worked for one well ... it might help the other."

Steve shook his head from side to side and pressed his new welcome source of comfort against his aching stomach.

"Thanks Mike. That feels really good. "

"I'm glad. It's the least I can do after ... well it was my fault you saw what you did and I can't tell you how sorry I am Steve ... I never meant to ..."

Steve reached out and grabbed Mike's arm and spoke, cutting his apology short purposefully.

"I KNOW you didn't ... Besides ... it was MY fault not yours. I don't know what came over me. I ... I saw the blood seeping out of the shirt into the water and I just ... I just lost it Mike ... I kept thinking that it was Haskins' blood and ... then I could feel it again Mike ... covering me and I ..."

Steve was growing agitated again as he tried to explain what had happened and so Mike halted his explanation swiftly as he grabbed the hand that now lay on his arm and squeezed it.

"Hey, don't dwell on it now, ok? You're just going to make yourself feel sick again. I should never have touched them in the first place. "

"No Mike ... I should have just thrown them out as well as the jacket. "

An uncomfortable silence filled the room for several seconds before Steve decided to break the unnerving silence.

"I ah ... saw you tidied up around the place. You ah ... didn't have to do that, you know?"

"Oh it was nothing. I was just keeping myself busy while you were asleep. Besides it really wasn't that bad ..."

"Mike about the empty beer bottles ... I usually have one at night before bed ... You know just to wind down a little ... But there were three night's worth on that table. I mean I didn't drink them all at one sitting or anything ..."

Mike laughed and squeezed Steve's hand again before speaking in a reassuring tone.

"Steve, I'm not your father and you're a grown man. This is your home and you don't have to explain your drinking habits or anything else about it to me, ok? I just wanted to tidy up for you, that's all ... There was no judgement involved."

Steve sighed audibly with relief at Mike's words and then he flustered a little, wanting to make what he said originally clear in the older man's mind just to be sure.

"I just didn't want you to think I drank heavily or anything because I don't ... Well ... maybe occasionally ... You know if there's a party or a special occasion or whatever ... But when I'm on duty I never ...

"STEVE! It's alright. I understand. Now, forget about it ok?"

Steve nodded and settled back against the pillows, feeling glad that he had cleared that particular worry from his mind.

"Now this time, please? Will you do what I ask and try to rest while I go rustle us up something to eat?"

Steve smiled and nodded but felt apprehensive about the idea of eating after his recent stomach purge. He watched as Mike pulled the comforter back up around him before feeling he needed to express his concerns.

"Yeah, but Mike? I'm not sure I'm going to be able to eat anything ..."

"Hey! Just wait and see how you feel when it's ready, ok? Now REST. And try to get warm again. Your hands are still freezing. Put them on your rice sock for a while." he added humorously, sending a playful wink in Steve's direction.

As Mike reached the doorway, he turned and asked purposefully.

"Oh , I almost forgot ... you got anything against a cheese and ham omelette?"

"No ..."

Mike smiled and Steve watched as the older man once more left the room but he also noticed that he seemed to purposefully leave the bedroom door open. The door to the bedroom was across the hall from the kitchen and somehow he felt Mike was determined to keep a close eye on him while he cooked. He put his hands as Mike requested underneath the comforter and placed them on the homemade heat pack. It felt warm and soothing and lying there in the dark, he felt his eyes start to drift closed as he listened to the comforting sounds of Mike in his kitchen, clanging pots and pans and rustling bags of ingredients. After the draining incident earlier he felt very tired and it wasn't long before he had drifted back to sleep.

Mike unpacked the grocery bags and stood at the newly stocked refrigerator surveying it proudly. Then he took out what he needed to make a light supper for them both. Finding a large enough frying pan, he set it on the stove. He wasn't the most prolific cook ever. Helen had been the main cook in the family but after her death he hadn't wanted Jeannie to have to eat takeaways all the time so between him and his daughter, they had helped each other learn to cook the basic recipes from her well worn cook book. Jeannie had seemed to be taking after her Mother as her cooking skills were way surpassing his and her creations were way more adventurous than the ones he attempted but he could at least now manage to cook a certain amount of basic meals perfectly that got him by. Having gotten the ingredients he needed together on the table ready to cook, he called into Steve.

"Steve? Have you warmed up yet? How's the stomach?"

When no reply came, Mike placed the bowl in his hand down and walked hurriedly across the hall. He looked in and saw Steve's eyes closed. He looked to be asleep but after Steve's earlier pretense, he walked quietly over to the bed and listened for several seconds to make sure. He smiled as he heard the low, steady breathing that this time told him that Steve had finally succumbed to the exhaustion that the earlier incident had caused. Placing a gentle hand against Steve's cheek the young man felt warm to the touch so satisfied that for now he was resting comfortably, he exited the room, this time pulling the door over half way and heading for the hall table. Picking up the phone he sank into the chair beside it and started to dial a number. When the person on the other end answered, Mike spoke sweetly into the receiver.

"Hi, is that Kathleen? "

"Yes."

"Hi it's Mike. Jeannie's Dad. Listen I need to ask you a favor. Something's come up at work that well ... it looks like its going to turn into an all-nighter so I was wondering if well ... if Jeannie could sleep over with Triona tonight please? I hate to ask but I don't like her being home alone and ..."

"Of course Mike that's no problem. Jeannie's welcome to stay anytime you know that. Triona will be over the moon. Do you need me to pick them up from your house? I think they were going to study after school over at your place."

"That would be great. Look Kathleen, I appreciate it. I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes. Especially in my line of work. It ... well it hasn't been easy since Helen ... well ... you know? And you've been a real life saver more times than I can count."

"Don't mention it Mike. I told you before whenever you need us we're here. Triona and Jeannie have been best friends since kindergarten and they both love having sleepovers. There's never a problem. I'll pick them up at six."

"Great, thanks Kathleen. I'll call Jeannie and let her know. Bye"

Mike hung up the phone and sighed with relief. At least now he didn't have to worry about Jeannie, he could concentrate on getting Steve over the worst. Dialing the next number he waited until the excitable and youthful voice answered the phone.

"Hello Stone residence. Can I help you?"

Mike smiled brightly. Jeannie's voice was like a breath of fresh air that always made him smile even on the worst of days.

"Hey sweetheart. It's your Dad."

"Oh hi Mike? Will you be home soon? Triona's here. We're studying Biology. "

Mike's smile faded.

"Listen sweetheart, I ... I'm afraid something's come up and I won't be home tonight but I've rang Mrs. Callaghan and she's going to pick you two up at six and you're going to sleep over there tonight with Triona. Is that ok?"

"Oh ... Alright ... Of course, that's fine. I understand. Is it work again?"

Mike heard the distinct disappointment in her voice despite the fact that she was trying to hide it. He didn't want to tell her about Steve just yet as he didn't want her to be concerned. His daughter and partner had only met a couple of times over the last six months and all the times were when Steve had come to pick him up for work. He had seen the dreamy looks she had given him on those brief occasions and worried that a teenage crush was likely to develop, so he didn't want to add fuel to the fire by letting her know that his good looking partner was now suffering. Instead hating to lie to his daughter, he told a small white lie instead.

"Yes ... Something like that ... But it's going to keep me and Steve busy all night. You sure you don't mind? I'll make it up to you tomorrow and I'll take you out after school for a slap up meal. How does that sound?"

He heard Jeannie's tone pick up at that statement and she spoke more positively than before.

"That sounds wonderful. Can Triona come with us?"

"Sure, sure she can. Just make sure you're packed and ready to go when Triona's Mom collects you both at six, alright Honey?"

"Yes I will. Bye Mike. I ... I love you."

Mike's heart glowed as he heard his daughter's words and he dry swallowed as he responded emotionally.

"I love you too Sweetheart. See you after school tomorrow. Bye ..."

He listened as Triona and Jeannie shouted combined and playful goodbyes down the receiver before hanging up and then sitting in silence for a minute or two. He was in two minds about whether he should make the third call or not but after much deliberation, he picked up the phone again and dialed the third number. Looking at his watch he saw that it was coming up to four thirty and he hoped the person he was calling was still there. As a female voice answered sweetly, Mike spoke purposefully.

"Hi there. This is Mike Stone. Could I please have a quick word with Lenny Murchison if he's still there? Thank you. Yes I'll hold."

Mike placed one hand over the receiver mouthpiece and leaning sideways he listened for any sign of movement from Steve's room. On hearing nothing but Steve's low and steady breathing he returned to a straight position and as Lenny's familiar voice answered he spoke in a quieter tone.

"Hi Lenny. Listen, I need to speak to you about Steve. I think I need your advice."

 **A/N 2: The homemade rice sock idea I researched online but as I have never used this method to heat a heat pack personally thanks to the wonderful invention of the microwave, I would urge caution should anyone decide to try it! ;-)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Behind Him All The Way**

 **A/N: I know and understand that some readers have tired of the length of time it takes for my stories to be updated sometimes but with my kids due back to school on the 31st of August, normal service will hopefully resume then. In the meantime I would appreciate your patience and appreciate those who are sticking with me. Here is a short update to keep things moving along. I am working on short updates at the moment for the others too. Finding the amount of writing time I need to keep all the stories progressing is just proving difficult in Real Life right now. However I am genuinely doing the best I can :-(**

Chapter 13

Lenny Murchison listened as Mike related his inner fears that he was not helping as he had hoped he could.

"What's happening Mike?"

"He's having flashbacks and ... nightmares ... Real bad ones. Now he's got one of his bad migraines on top of everything else. He's not eating great and ah ... I don't think he's getting much sleep with the nightmares, Lenny."

"Yeah ... I'd already suspected that much. Both of those things without any of the trauma added would have contributed to his migraine Mike. How bad is he?"

Mike dry swallowed as he remembered the state his young partner had been in when he had returned from the store earlier. He started to feel guilty for even having this conversation and began to hope against hope that he was doing the right thing by calling the friendly psychiatrist.

"He's bad. He threw up his guts earlier and then when I went to the store for supplies a short time ago, he was back in the bathroom dry retching. I ... I did a stupid thing Lenny ... I had put his bloodied clothes from the incident soaking in the tub. He ah ... he saw them ..."

Lenny let out a low whistle.

"Oh! I see ... Well I had already suspected he was having blood issues. He's been wiping at his face a lot in our sessions but he denies it every time. I can understand however how seeing the blood like that could have caused that reaction. Well ... my first advice is to get those out of his sight Mike. I also suspect there's more to this than meets the eye. I have other suspicions that he's linking this with another trauma from his past but he won't open up about it "

Mike wrestled with his conscience in that moment. His gut was telling him that he should tell Lenny what he knew about Delaney but if Steve found out he'd told, he knew there would be repercussions and possibly ugly ones. He struggled with what was the right thing to do and Lenny noticed the silent hesitation.

"Mike? Do you know something that I don't? It won't help him to keep it from me, you know? I'm only here to help him Mike, you know that? My first aim is to get him back on the streets and able to do his job again as soon as possible. If you have information that could help me do that quicker, I'd appreciate it if you'd share it. Why is it that we shrinks always get a bad wrap, huh? People seem to always think that we're only here to catch them out and destroy their careers when our main job is to do the absolute opposite. I'm only here to help Mike. "

Mike felt sorry for Murchison. In the cases he'd help on since his appointment to the job, just over a year ago, Mike had grown quite fond of the friendly psychiatrist. He was so unlike his predecessor and Mike found his newer methods both refreshing and admirable and he had already known him to have helped a couple of fellow officers over some pretty bad traumas since then. He had proved his worth as far as Mike was concerned but the poor man was still a little too blissfully unaware of the full legacy his predecessor had left in his wake. Mike feared that it was the main reason he was battling so much resistance from a lot of the staff at Bryant Street. After a minute or so of unnerving silence, Mike piped up in a somewhat subdued manner.

"Look Lenny, you don't know much about your predecessor, do you?"

"You mean Alex Sanderson? No, I never knew the man personally but his qualifications were second to none from what I heard. Why do you ask that Mike?"

"Oh, his credentials were never in question but his methods and bedside manner were, especially the closer he got to retirement. He was the one most hated guy in this building in recent times. He broke many a fine Officer in various Departments. Many of them left or were desked and then poor Kravitz proved to be the final straw."

"Kravitz? Who was Kravitz? And what happened?"

"Leon Kravitz was a young rookie. A little green in patches maybe but his heart was in the right place. Well one day, they told him that he'd made a mistake. He'd shot and killed a civilian in crossfire during an armed robbery. It tormented the kid and he ended up paying the ultimate price for it. Sanderson raked him over the coals and made him feel even more guilty than he had before. He lost his nerve and due to Sanderson's damning report they took his badge. "

Lenny inhaled sharply as he listened to Mike's sorrowful tale.

"Why am I getting the feeling that this tale DOESN'T have a happy ending?"

Mike's voice broke a little as he stumbled over the next few sentences.

"Probably because it doesn't ... Kravitz took a swan dive off the Golden Gate. Twenty two years old ..." Mike added in a melancholic tone.

Lenny went quiet this time.

"Then Sanderson hadn't done his job right to allow that to happen. He obviously hadn't listened hard enough or tried hard enough Mike."

Mike found himself smiling at the other end of the phone despite the sordid tale and the sad memories the story had evoked. Lenny's heart was in the right place and he cared! That was the most important part and the main attribute that had led to Mike's acceptance of him. The one attribute that Sanderson had lacked.

"Oh, I'm afraid the story got worse. A couple of months later it emerged there had been a mix up in the Ballistic reports. It wasn't Kravitz' bullet that had killed the civilian at all, it had been the perp's. Kravitz had always insisted his bullet couldn't have hit that young woman and yet Sanderson dismissed his pleas of innocence and made even HIM believe he had. When the real facts emerged, Sanderson was dealt with and well ... here you are Lenny but he left behind a distinct distrust for shrinks in his wake and YOU my friend have a lot of convincing to do, to show them you're not the same as he was. "

"Well that certainly explains a lot. I mean I knew Sanderson had vacated his post under dubious circumstances but I guess I never realized the full extent of what I inherited. Thanks for the heads up but ... I'LL convince them. I can be quite persuasive when I want to be, you know? But look, I'm not LIKE Sanderson, Mike. YOU know THAT, don't you?"

Mike chuckled and spoke warmly.

"Of course I do! Do you really think I'd be ringing you for advice about Steve if I didn't?"

"Good point ... So this information you have, are you going to tell me about it?"

Mike sighed heavily again and then cast a quick look over his shoulder in at the still sleeping young man, before making his decision, rightly or wrongly.

"Steve's first partner on the streets, Ed Delaney, shot himself in their patrol car just over two years ago ..."

Another sharp inhalation came from Murchison over the ear piece and he spoke in a shaky voice.

"Well no wonder he's taking this one hard. He's doubling the trauma. Reliving the first through the second. Of COURSE! That makes sense now. But how did you find that out? Did he ... TELL you?"

"No ... No, I used good old detective work and gut instinct, that's all. He spoke a little of it when I confronted him about it but he's promised to tell me more about it later. I'm just afraid that maybe you're the man he should be telling that to and NOT me. I ... well I want to help him Lenny, just like you but ... what if I don't say the right things? I don't want him ending up like Kravitz because of something I said. He's really hurting Lenny and not just physically with the migraine, he's almost tortured by feelings of regret and misplaced blame. Steve takes things very personally. A perfectionist with high standards for himself. It worries me Lenny, I don't mind admitting. He needs to know he has the right to fail occasionally. After all, he's human and he can't keep blaming himself for other people's choices. "

"Yes, yes you're absolutely right. I've seen that too with Steve. Even in our short sessions, he cares deeply about his job and the people he's there to serve and protect but you're right he takes things to heart too much. He'll burn out very quick if he continues to do that. Trying to be perfect is a very exhausting and draining thing to try and do, Mike. "

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm CALLING you. Look I know the common sense kind of stuff and I know personally a lot of what he's going through but I DON'T know all the clinical side of this stuff. That's YOUR area of expertise, not mine! So help me out here, will you? What should I do now? And please ... none of those long fancy words of yours, ok? Lay it to me in cop terms will ya please?"

Lenny smiled at Mike's last sentence. He had only known this man for the last year and already he had warmed to the sometimes tough and at most other times affable and sociable Lieutenant. He had a heart of gold tucked behind a tough layer of skin. It was quite plain to anyone who knew him for any length of time at all, that Mike Stone was an excellent Police Officer and the best ally to have in all aspects of life. He never ceased to amaze him with his wisdom and insight and Lenny suddenly felt strangely heartened by Mike's confidence in him and by his verbal support as well. Formulating a plan in his head he allowed himself a few moments to clear his thoughts before finally speaking confidently.

"Ok, you said he was going to tell you later on about, Delaney wasn't it?"

"That's right. I'm going to try and get him to eat something first. I'd swear he's losing weight ..."

"Well firstly, I'd be careful about giving him food Mike. If he's battling a severe migraine AND the courage to tell you some innermost horrific memory, your well cooked intentions might just end up with the both of you back on that bathroom floor again! Personally, I wouldn't worry about the not eating part just yet. It's only been three days since the incident so things are still very raw for Steve. Once you can get fluid into him and keep him hydrated, he'll eat in his own time. For now ... My advice is be led by Steve ..."

Mike furrowed his brow on the other end of the line.

"What EXACTLY do you mean by that?"

"I saw Steve this morning on his way back from Olsen's Office and he was wound tighter than a coil. My gut feeling is that Steve is feeling too much out of control right now. People are telling him what he should be doing and how he should be feeling and those flashbacks both from the past and present are hampering his ability to function normally as well. He doesn't know what to do to get things back on track and yet he's not quite ready to trust me yet Mike. Did he ... well did he by any chance have any dealings with Sanderson that you're aware of?"

Mike thought about his own experience with the boy and then tried to think about what he had read in his personnel file earlier.

"No, none that I can recall. Why? You think that has something to do with why he's not letting you help him?"

"Maybe ... or if not Sanderson than maybe another counselor or psychologist from his past. He's certainly very mistrusting and almost volatile around me Mike and I'm not sure why exactly. Didn't I hear mention that Steve suffered the loss of his parents at a young age? Maybe that's connected to it somehow?"

Mike sighed again audibly over the mouthpiece and then seemed unsure.

"Well I can't say for sure but I think Steve handled that whole time as well as can be expected for a young boy. He had his Grandfather to help him and they were very close. But ... maybe he did have an issue with Sanderson that we don't know about and you're suffering his wrath by association. Do you want me to try and tease that out of him?" Mike asked tentatively, desperate for some solid, clinical instruction on how to proceed with helping his young, suffering partner.

"NO, absolutely not! Like I said Mike, proceed with caution. Steve is fragile right now, just like poor Kravitz would have been. The best way to deal with that is to let Steve lead the way. Let him talk in his own time and as he feels comfortable. Don't push him or try to drag it out of him. My experience is that telling people they don't HAVE to talk about something and making them feel comfortable and at ease is the best way to get them to talk about it freely themselves."

"Reverse psychology, huh?"

"Yes, exactly but ... that's where my main problem has been with Steve. He doesn't feel comfortable in my presence at all for some unknown reason. He holds on to everything for dear life as if telling me would be detrimental to everything he holds important. I haven't managed to be able to break through that mistrust yet and I fear Olsen made matters worse this morning by his actions. Now he trusts me even less. I think that just maybe YOU might be the key here Mike."

At those words Mike flustered a little and suddenly felt a huge weight of responsibility thrust upon his shoulders as he stammered uneasily.

"Me? ..."

"Yes Mike. He trusts you. I think you're the one he's going to open up to. And when he does, listen and understand and do what you do best."

"What's THAT exactly?" Mike stammered again.

"Use that Mike Stone endless wisdom of yours. Your experience in the field gives you the edge over me in many ways. You don't just know how he feels from books like me. You ACTUALLY know what he's going through. Just go with that infamous gut of yours Mike and let Steve take the reins and you won't go wrong."

Mike went very quiet on the other end of the line and for a few seconds Lenny thought that their call might have been disconnected until Mike's anxious voice spoke again.

"How can you be so sure? Sanderson went wrong with Kravitz and look what happened? I ah ... I can't be responsible for anything happening to that young man ... He's a good cop and well ... he's becoming a good friend too. I don't want to mess this up. I mean I've already messed up this evening with the bloodied clothes Lenny."

Hearing the worry and genuine concern in the older man's voice, Lenny responded in a reassuring tone.

"Mike, I know you think you messed up with that but believe it or not I think that actually may have helped him more than it upset him."

"What? How can you come up with THAT theory? The boy was a mess ..."

"You've shown him that he has serious issues where blood is concerned after the latest incident and the first step in helping someone over that is to make them see and accept that they HAVE a problem. I don't think Steve can deny that now so it WAS a good thing."

"I guess I never thought of it that way. He ah ... he keeps seeing the blood on his face too ... Did ... did you know that?" he asked again cautiously, kind of hoping he already did so that he wouldn't feel as if he was after ratting on the young man even more than he already had.

To his relief he heard Lenny's murmured confirmation.

"Yes, I had suspected that. During our session he rubbed his face a lot and I suspected he was still trying to wash it off regularly. The subconscious mind is a powerful thing but also a very cruel thing sometimes in the things it makes us relive so callously. "

"Ok, so you're saying not to push him to eat, make sure he drinks, keep him at his ease and then ... just let him open up and talk in his own time, huh?"

"Exactly ..."

"How can you be so sure I'll do more good than harm Lenny?" Mike asked again nervously and Lenny could tell it was a fact that was bothering him greatly.

"I'm SURE because you CARE, Mike. You said it yourself. That's what sets you and me and even Steve apart from the Sandersons of this world. That's what will make the difference. Steve knows you're acting in his best interests and he'll see that for what it is. I am concerned about the lack of sleep though. That's a downward spiral Mike. The more sleep he loses, the more tired and irritable he's going to be and the less chance we'll have to get through to him. Unfortunately with the level of flashbacks he's having, I only know one sure way to help him sleep without nightmares."

"Oh no ... Not PILLS Lenny! "

"I'm afraid so Mike. Just for a couple of nights until he gets his strength back and we can get him to accept and deal with what's happened. The nightmares should ease then and he shouldn't need them anymore. I can drop some into you this evening on my way home. Are you in your place or Steve's?"

" Steve's. I thought it was best to keep him in his own environment. Besides he wanted to come here so ... "

" ... so you're already letting him lead Mike. You're doing fine. Try to get him to talk at his own pace first AND if you can convince him that I'm on his side and one of the good guys Mike in the process, I'd sure appreciate it. That way he might just talk it out with me second. I can teach him coping techniques to help him with the flashbacks and how to make them less debilitating so he can function normally again and between us if we work together, we can have him back to work and back on the streets where he belongs within the week."

"Within the week? That's very optimistic isn't it?"

"Not at all. As soon as we can remove the block that's causing all these adverse reactions in Steve, the recovery will be very quick. Mark my words. Right now, he needs to be listened to and supported and then he'll be in the right frame of mind to help himself. I think you're the perfect one to do that Mike. I'll drop those sleeping pills over in about an hour and if you need me for anything after that, I'll give you my home number just in case. CALL ME!"

Mike found a pad and pen on the hall table and took down Lenny's home number as he called it out. He felt a little better after their conversation but he still had an underlying nervousness about the whole thing regardless. Knowing Lenny was at the other end of a phone whenever he needed his help and advice, helped though but he just hoped that he had done the right thing by calling him in the first place. Lenny could almost feel the palpable tension emanating from the older man on the other end of the phone and as if reading his mind he spoke once more comfortingly.

"You did the right thing calling me Mike. We'll get him through this, I PROMISE you!."

Mike allowed himself a smile at Lenny's perception.

"Ok, Lenny. Let's try it your way but ... when you come later be careful. I don't want him to see you at the door. If he thinks I've gone behind his back then I'll lose his trust and then your plan is going to go up in smoke along with any chance we have of getting him to talk things out with either of us! Ok?"

"Don't worry. I'll be careful. I'll even wear a disguise if you want?" Lenny added, quite seriously which made Mike laugh a little louder than he intended. Peeking his head quickly in to see if his laugh had woken Steve and relieved when he saw it hadn't, he returned to his call, still smirking.

"Now, now Lenny, don't get carried away. A disguise won't be necessary. You stick with the clinical side and you leave the undercover work to the real detectives, ok?"

Lenny saw the funny side of Mike's words and laughed.

"Spoilsport!" he added, which made both men giggle again uncontrollably.

After the playful camaraderie had broken the tension from earlier, Mike said his goodbyes and the two men ended the call. Mike sat where he was for another five minutes trying to process all of Lenny's well spoken advice and finally feeling more ready to help his young partner, he pulled himself up off the chair and checked on Steve once more before heading back into the kitchen. After what Lenny had said, he wouldn't force too much food at Steve for now, but he was still ravenous himself and feeling that he needed some sustenance for the long night ahead, he started preparing the omelettes, always keeping a close ear on the bedroom opposite all the while.


End file.
